


Harry Potter: The Alchemist's Last Trial

by UniversalChronosMage



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: LGBTQ Character, Larger Hogwarts Community, Rescued from the dursleys, Smart Harry Potter, The Golden Trio Plus One
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29721693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniversalChronosMage/pseuds/UniversalChronosMage
Summary: A change of location made Harry's life with the Dursley's take a different turn, rescued by Dumbledore two months before his first year leaves the wizarding world with a Harry Potter more confident and willing to take part in his destiny. When a secret plagues his home and a mysterious artefact is at risk, Harry and his friends will become ensconced in the alchemist's last trial.First in a planned rewrite of the Harry Potter universe.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, this is my first ever published work, so I hope you enjoy it. I don't really have a planned publishing or writing schedule yet, I've been planning parts of this story for years and I really hope you enjoy it. Any recommendations you have I will at least listen to even if they do not change my plans. I don't particularly understand the tagging system yet so expect more tags to appear as I go along, in addition to that if you believe at any point that my rating for this story is wrong please let me know.
> 
> As I'm sure you'll notice I have altered the Dursley's backstory and location, I wanted Harry to have a different upbringing and so I've altered them and their lives to fit the needs of the story.
> 
> Thanks and I hope you enjoy.

Mr Vernon Dursley of number 116 Hallerton Road, was proud to say he was perfectly normal, in perfect accordance to his old family values. He and his wife Petunia were the last people you'd ever believe would be involved in anything mysterious, unless you counted being perfect in the public eye as mysterious of course. They had moved up in the world rumour had it the family used to live in a regular house in Surrey of all places.

Mr Dursley was the director of Grunnings Drills International, London Division, he was a big beefy man with hardly any neck and a large disdainful moustache. He spent his time complaining, working and spending time with his wonderful son Dudley and his wife Petunia who he had married because she was a 'proper' woman who he knew he could mould to be the best wife a man of his traditional values could want, love hadn't truly come into, he card for her but that was not the reason he had married her. Petunia on the other hand was thin, tall and blonde with a very long neck, she used to be a nurse at a large hospital in London although after her marriage to Vernon he had pressured her to stop working and so now she was a stay at home mother and was reasonably content with her life unknowing of what lie in store for her over the next decade.

Although most people believed the Dursley family's only relatives to be the late Mr and Mrs Evans and Vernon's sister, Marge, they were very wrong. Petunia Dursley had a sister, a nephew and a brother-in-law, the Potters. Petunia hadn't seen her sister in almost three years, not since she'd snuck out to her sister's wedding. Vernon hadn't been at all pleased when he discovered magic and had become more jealous than she herself had ever been, from then on he'd forced her to cut contact with her sister (who she had only just reconnected with) but she hadn't done so, no they had been in contact through post up until the Potters went into hiding a few months ago. Petunia may not have cared for her brother in law – in fact she found him to be an insufferable man and if she was honest she detested him, he was far to full of himself – but she loved her sister and so she had promised herself that she would no longer distance herself from them. And then there was magic. While Petunia had reconnected with Lily magic was still a force that she hated, a hate born out of jealousy, and feared she knew now that magic was not something you could help but she still hated the very idea that her sister was corrupted with it.

On the first of November the Dursley family's believed normality came to an end, in the magical world the Dark lord Voldemort had disappeared and while the Death Eaters worried the community celebrated, wizards and witches went around partying in colourful robes all through the muggle world, sending messages and magic into the air in broad daylight and young Harry Potter was being shunted around the wizarding world in secret while Albus Dumbledore prepared to send the baby into hiding in the middle of London right under the nose of the Ministry and the remaining Death Eaters.

* * *

In the middle of the night the oddest thing happened, a man like no other appeared in the middle of the road quickly heading towards number 116 and the curious grey cat that had been sat on the wall for the day. He was tall, thin, and very old, with silver hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon glasses and his nose was very long and crooked. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had spent the last day in a rush of panic and legal battles in order to contain and grant guardianship of the first ever survivor of the killing curse and now he had to sequester him away with his blood relatives in the heart of London. From his pocket he pulled what appeared to be an ordinary silver cigarette lighter, he flicked it open and suddenly the street lamps went out with small balls of light soaring into the lighter leaving the street in complete darkness except for two pinpricks in the distance belonging to the cat on the wall of number 116.

Reaching the Dursley residence Dumbledore pulled his wand from his pocket and cast a lighting charm, just in time to see the tabby cat morph into a rather severe looking woman with black hair pulled into a bun and large square glasses, she too was wearing a cloak, a deep emerald one.

"Professor McGonagall, I trust all is well here?"

"Albus, you're here at last. The three Dursley's are all fine and there's been no activity in the area – other than all those partying people up and down the block. You must tell me, why did I have to watch Petunia Dursley today?" Minerva McGonagall questioned impatiently.

"Ahh yes, the parties. People do seem to be rejoicing don't they."

McGonagall sniffed angrily and fixed her gaze upon Dumbledore intent on getting her answers. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... Well, they're hardly stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had nothing but chaos and terror for eleven years and even then we had barely recovered from the War of Secrecy. You know as while as I do that Grindelwald shook up the country and the world, and then Voldemort appeared just over two decades later."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, they're disregarding the Statute in broad daylight swapping rumours and catching up meanwhile Death Eaters and their supporters are scattering left right and centre." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "If we're not careful the Statute will break and then not only will we have the ICW breathing down our necks but also the muggles. I suppose the Dark Lord really has gone, Albus?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of,"

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense - for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well - noble to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed Minerva had finally reached the topic she had been pressing for all along, for never had she fixed the headmaster with such a stare before and her face was heavy with worry and fear – fear that had led to her agreeing to sit on a cold wall all day watching the sister of one of her favourite students. "What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James are - are - that they're - dead."

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..."

Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. They say even the killing curse failed and that Voldemort's magic failed on him, that Harry is why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "How did Harry survive – not just survive Voldemort but also the curse, it's meant to be impossible, so how could a fifteen month old boy survive it?"

"It's unlikely to be anything about Harry himself, it is far more likely to be connected to Lily and the sacrificial act of her dying to protect him. But beyond that, well we can only begin to guess." Dumbledore mused.

A few minutes passed in silence, before Dumbledore gave a sigh and removed an intricate golden pocket watch and examined it.

"It is almost time."

"You wish to leave Harry here, don't you?" McGonagall gasped, realisation crashing down upon her.

Dumbledore nodded and removed his wand from a pocket bringing it down in a smooth line level with the door to the house. "I'm afraid so. They're the only family he has left, and it is the only way to protect him from the rigors of our world."

"But Albus! You can't Petunia's husband, I swear there's something off about him, he's not a good man and Petunia hated James. This is a terrible idea-"

"That's enough!" Albus responded his voice cutting through the night like a cutting spell did to butter, "The Uncle will barely be around, he's a busy man he works six days a week in that high flying job of his and Petunia is a good person she would hardly have married him if he wasn't a good person. It's not like she needed his money what with her job and her inheritance from her parents, and I'm sure she will not let her grudge with James stop her from caring for Lily's child." Albus himself was certain of this, after all when the Evans family died their children had come into the money they had stored away from their modest life and yet high paying jobs in the medical and scientific fields. The Evans parents had lived a modest life using only a fraction of their money in their lifetime in order to provide their daughters with a reasonable inheritance that was intended to get them started in life – Petunia had no need for Vernon Dursley's money at this point in time, especially with her sister having married into the Potter family wealth. No, he was sure Vernon Dursley must have been an upstanding man with high morals to have married Petunia Evans.

A slight pop echoed in the night as a wicker baby basket appeared on the doorstep with a sleeping boy nestled within.

"You're insane. Albus, you can't possibly think that you can hide him in the middle of Westminster right under the noses of the Ministry. We're only an hour's walk from Diagon Alley for Merlin's sake!" McGonagall fumed. Minerva had always been one for challenges, but this was ridiculous, to expect a muggle to successfully hide a famous wizard in the heart of the busiest magical city in the country was out of the question no matter how much Petunia may care for the lad.

"I've got it all taken care of Minnie. Trust me Harry Potter will be perfectly safe from those in our world who may wish to harm him here." Albus paused and removed a letter and small package from his cloak, "You know how our world treats the famed. He'll never know peace if he grows up with us, can't you see how much better off he'll be growing up away from all those expectations until he's ready to take it?"

"Yes. Yes. I suppose your right." Sighing McGonagall shook her head in resignation knowing that there was just one more thing she could do, "At least tell me you'll have someone around to keep a watch?"

Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling away. "It's all taken care of. Arabella has just moved into her son's place down the street. As you know, he's doing quite well as a director in the muggle world and has been more than understanding with his mother's relocation."

Pacified McGonagall spared one last glance at the child of her star pupils, before apparating away with a barely audible crack. His colleague gone, Dumbledore moved to crouch down beside Harry, slipping the letter and parcel into his basket and with a whispered "Good luck, Harry Potter" the wizard disappeared from Hallerton Road and a wave of red energy pulsed through the street encasing the Dursley residence in a field of protective power.

A breeze swept down the street, which lay silent except for the occasional clatter of an animal, the very last place you would expect magic to lurk. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. Not knowing he was special, not knowing that in a few hours' time his Aunt Petunia's scream would awaken him as she opened the door to collect her morning delivery, nor that he would spend the next ten years at the mercy of an aunt and uncle who both feared him and saw him as a disposable life. He slept on having no clue that across the world he would soon be famous, famous for a deed he would never remember. A deed that came about upon the completion of an act that no one had ever done before, nor that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were raising their glasses in a cheer and calling out for the safety and prosperity of:

"Harry Potter – the Boy Who Lived!"


	2. Chapter 2

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursley family had welcomed their nephew into their home, and Hallerton Road had hardly changed at all. Sure some neighbours had been and gone, but all of the houses still stood with children playing in gardens and people going about their day. Number 116 however was the outlier, it's gardens were held in a constant state of perfection with the house perfectly clear, completely failing to capture the state of normality that Mr and Mrs Dursley had so craved.

Within the house photos showed the progression of a loving family of three, never even indicating the presence of the young wizard child they harboured. The photos showed what for all intents and purposes was a happy life for the Dursley family, especially their son. The photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, riding a rollercoaster, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother and holding up a school rugby trophy.

But not one photo in the house told the truth, none of them could convey the tension Mrs Dursley felt towards her husband for his constant abuse of their nephew, nor her hatred for the boy who looked so much like his father and then there was the protective magic that stopped her being able to get rid of the boy.

Petunia Dursley ambled about in the kitchen attempting to prepare for the big day, today was her Dudley's eleventh birthday and she planned on taking Dudley and a couple of his friends to London Zoo while Vernon was at work. Normally Vernon took Dudley's birthday off work, but this year he was caught up in a major business conference in Edinburgh and so she had a few days to herself that she could spend with her Dudley and a few days respite for Harry from the brutality of his uncle. It did not matter to her that Harry was her nephew she could not see past his appearance and so she had not stopped her husband and son for harming the boy especially after he had shown signs of magic.

For the first five years after her sister's death Petunia had found herself progressing through life in a catatonic state, and during that time the damage had been done. Her husband had made it obvious to the world that they treated the boy poorly, Vernon had kept Harry in the cupboard under the stairs even when there were three additional unused bedrooms in the house. He had also been training Harry to earn his keep, forcing him to learn to look after the home and fulfil their every need – not that it was necessarily a bad thing but it didn't look good when the neighbours would see the boy working alone in the garden, they would need to come up with a decent cover story for that.

It had been on Harry's sixth birthday that Petunia had woken up to what was going on under her own roof, when she had walked in on Vernon physically harming him and locking him into his cupboard. Petunia wasn't a stupid lady, she knew that if they weren't careful they would be caught out by the authorities. There was no way she could ever convince Vernon to treat Harry like he did Dudley, but she could get her nephew a life where the outside world would believe he was treated like family and where he would at least have a certain amount of needs met.

The next day Petunia called a family meeting.

With careful manipulation she had been able to convince Vernon to at least allow the boy one of the spare bedrooms and decent clothes, she had implored Vernon to consider how it looked that a family who earnt as much money as they did and lived in such a large house to treat one child lavishly and have the other treated to little more than what should be provided for a pet.

It had taken some time but eventually Vernon agreed and Harry was moved into one of the bedrooms on the third floor of the house and was given a completely new wardrobe full of brand new clothes. Of course that hadn't really solved the problems but Harry had been treated slightly better than before – although Vernon would still frequently take his 'frustrations' out on the boy whenever he performed accidental magic.

That was when the second phase of Harry's life with the Dursley's began. No longer was he expected to wear his cousin's hand me down clothes and sleep in a cupboard, and his cousin was even nice to him – or at least pretended to be in public, except for school – but his uncle still hated him. Upon any incidents of what Harry would later discover to be accidental magic, Vernon would beat him although that same magic always healed him afterwards. He attended the same school as his cousin and was even allowed to play with the other kids!

While Dudley was somewhat of a bully and spent his time playing rugby and dodging work, Harry played football not for the school team, just as a hobby and had a single close friendship with a girl in his class, Jessie. The two of them were inseparable and were very smart. Although his life was strained by his family, Harry knew that his life could have been much worse. At least he was allowed to attend school, make friends and go on outings around London with his best friend, even if he was harmed and treated like an unwanted freak in his own home.

A couple of months after his ninth birthday however, tragedy struck. Harry and Jessie had been in a car accident on the way back from the cinema and Harry had seen his best friend die in front of his eyes while he escaped unscathed. After that Harry had withdrawn for a few months, before recovering seemingly completely, except for recurring nightmares of the event.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, sat at his desk completing some of his monthly paperwork. Already today he'd drafted a proposal for the confederation in relation to their plans to force the remaining giant population into one specific area, by their very nature most giants were violent beings and if they were pressed into one space the species would wipe each other out. That would be a terrible loss. Now he was working on sending out letters to the new first year students, or at least working out which students needed introductory visits and then forwarding them onto his deputy to deal with, the rest of the letters were then dealt with by the Hogwarts Elves who sent them on by owl post. He'd done this job so many times over the years, he was practically working on automatic, it wasn't even his job anymore but he loved it so much that rather than allowing Minerva to deal with it he took it upon himself to introduce the young minds to the wonders of magic.

As normal there wasn't much to do with the process, he simply had to mark down all of the muggleborn or muggle raised students who had no wizarding contact and then arrange to visit each of them in turn. It saddened him more than he could say when he saw how few students would be joining with the current class, so many families had been ended by the war and not all of these prospective students would even join Hogwarts some may go to the Manchester Academy or any of the sixty smaller magical schools in Britain. Hogwarts would be left with no more than ninety new students, and that only if the muggleborns wished to join Hogwarts in light of the prejudice prevalent there.

According to his list there were only two more children he had to visit, a Miss Keegan and Mr Harry Potter. He was scheduled to meet with the Keegan family in four days in order to round off the visits, but before then there was the matter of the last Potter. Oh yes, how he had waited for this day, he remembered so clearly the last time he had seen the child almost ten years ago now, he had along with one of his most trusted friends left the young orphaned boy on the doorsteps of his only living relatives. Unfortunately he had been unable to visit the young boy over the years, oh he had planned to many times, but something always came up and disrupted his plans, at least he knew the boy had been cared for. Old Arabella kept him well informed although she had informed him that the boy was unlikely to know much beyond the basics of magic and the magical world – which was what necessitated a hand delivered letter in the first place – she had repeatedly reported the boys good health and continued residence with his only surviving family.

Checking the time, Albus decided that he couldn't afford to make the visit today, and he was booked up for the majority of the next month, he would deliver Harry his Hogwarts letter on his birthday and do what he could to catch the boy up on what he would need to know coming into the magical world. Yes, he decided, it was best to wait to meet Harry Potter, after all what better gift could he give the boy for his birthday than an entire magical world to explore. He'd send the letter out first as practice dictated and then visit the boy on his birthday to introduce him back into the wizarding world, it wasn't like the boy would be ignorant of magic he just wouldn't have the largest understanding of where he belonged in the world.

* * *

Harry snapped awake, panting, and stared at the ceiling. He shook silently as he observed the pattern of the suns rays peeking through his curtains, and frowned as he tried to dismiss the dream from his mind. For once it hadn't been a memory of the accident, instead it had been a series of disjointed images, a woman with red hair falling to the ground, a flash of green light, joined with a high cold voice and the roar of a motorcycle. It wasn't the first time he'd had the dream and yet it made no more sense to him now than it had the first time. He supposed the woman was his mother, his aunt had snuck him a photo of her once when uncle Vernon had been away, it was of his mother around about his age along with a little ginger cat that she'd apparently owned.

He had almost dozed off again when he remembered what day it was. Dudley's birthday. Although when his uncle was away Harry didn't have to get up early to cook the breakfast and clean the house, he still needed to be up in time to help his aunt with the cooking and setting up the house for his cousins' birthday. Pulling his thin duvet off, he sat up and rolled out of bed heading over to his wardrobe to get ready for the day.

His room was rather barren, he had the third biggest bedroom in the house, smaller than Dudley's but bigger than Dudley's second bedroom. His room had the best his aunt had been willing to get him – it wasn't the best but at least he had to allow him some comforts – there was a bed with a single pillow, a wardrobe and a bedside cabinet. There was even a mirror! Although he'd covered it with a sheet years ago, for some reason his reflection had never quite been something he was comfortable with, whether it was his litany of scars from when his uncle beat him that had to be hidden under long sleeved tops and trousers or his thin frame, unruly black hair or even the lightning bolt scar he didn't know but either way the only part of his appearance he liked was his brilliant emerald green eyes… although he thought his hair might be tolerable if he was allowed to grow it out a little. His uncle Vernon would go ballistic at the mere suggestion though.

Ever since his aunt had hit him on the head with repeatedly with a frying pan he'd required glasses and so his aunt had gotten him a simple silver set of rectangular glasses that further enhanced the appearance of his eyes. They were the one thing his uncle made sure never to damage – after all he didn't want to pay to replace them and his reputation would never allow for Harry to go around with taped up glasses.

For the last ten years Harry had lived here with his relatives and every single moment seemed to have been designed to hurt him. Sure his aunt would occasionally show him the slightest bit of kindness, but his uncle was a monster, and so he had to suffer in the place that was supposed to be his home and sanctuary. From the little he knew he'd come into their lives after his parents died in a car crash, a crash which had left him with the most curious lightning bolt scar on his forehead right above his brilliant green eyes; his aunt had once told him that there was more to the story and she'd tell him when he was eleven as she wasn't sure how to explain it.

He dressed in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and grabbed a wrapped present box from his shelf, before making his way down to the kitchen. His aunt was standing in front of the cooker looking after the bacon.

"Morning Aunt Petunia,"

"Watch the bacon Boy!" Petunia barked uncharacteristically.

Harry froze, his aunt never ever acted like this when his uncle was away. Something wasn't right, Vernon wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. Slowly Harry turned and looked around the kitchen. He gulped. There sitting in a chair in the connecting sun lounge was the other woman he had to call aunt. Marge Dursley – his uncle's likeminded sister. The woman was just as bad as her brother and had even less restraint. Marge absolutely detested Harry and had once attempted to kill him – five years ago on one of her Christmas visits Marge had trapped him in the rubbish bin and put it out for collection. Somehow however when he felt the bin being moved he had appeared on the sidewalk next to it. Strange things like that always seemed to happen around Harry. Like the time his hair had grown back after Marge had shaved it off (supposedly his hair was running the family reputation) leaving him distraught, or the time he'd found himself and Jessie up on the school roof when Dudley's gang were chasing them, when his teacher's hair had turned blue and even that time when he'd fallen through a window at school only to find that the glass had repaired itself moments later. Marge being here only meant one thing. Trouble.

On her last visit, Harry had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favourite dog. Ripper had chased Harry out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight.

"Still here boy?" she barked.

"Yes," Harry responded sparing a momentary glance at his aunt, she was holding two fingers up, that meant Marge would be staying for two days.

"Don't talk to me like that." Marge boomed. "You'll show some respect to your betters Boy. It's high time you learned your place, my brother has taken you in and raised you when he'd have been far better dumping you on a street somewhere the day you turned up."

Harry turned away doing his best to ignore the woman. By the time Dudley entered the room Harry was just laying the breakfast plates on the table, which was made more difficult because of all the presents Marge had piled on there for Dudley. Harry was left rushing about the kitchen sorting food and drink for the Dursleys, who ate and conversed as normal, with Marge making her displeasure in Harry well known. Eventually Marge leaned back in her chair facing Petunia.

"Wonderful food Petunia. The perfect start to the most joyous day of the year." She spoke completely ignoring the fact that it was Harry who had made all the food.

"Thank you, Marge." Petunia smiled, an awful fake smile that Harry was far to used to seeing on her face, "It's very good of you to come round for Dudley's birthday, but you know you really didn't need to."

"Nonsense." Marge stated firmly. "It's Dudley's birthday and seeing as this fine specimen of a man can't have his father here on his special day, it's my duty to step in."

Harry shared a look with Dudley. Neither of them liked Marge and it was one of the few things they agreed on. Marge reached round to pat Dudley on the shoulder, "Now then Dudley, do you want your presents now or later?"

"Later thanks. We're planning on opening them after the trip to the zoo." Dudley responded irritably.

"The zoo." Marge snorted. "Seriously Petunia, you think the zoo is appropriate for a grown boy." When Petunia failed to respond Marge turned her attention back to Dudley. "So, who exactly is coming?"

"Oh," Dudley began, "the Freak's going to old Figg's place and we," he gestured at the two adults, "are going with my closest friends, Christopher, Miles, Edward and Rory."

Marge nodded to herself, and fixed Petunia who had just come off a call on her personal phone, with a stare, "the boy's going to the cat-lady is he?"

"Aah, no, bad news." Petunia began tentatively, "Mrs Figg's broken her leg. And as her son's currently working on that new film of his, he's indisposed to watch the boy either. They can't take him."

Harry's heart gave a leap. Every time the Dursley's wanted him out of the way, Harry was left with Mrs Figg from down the road. He was sorry that she had hurt herself, she was rather sweet after all, but he was glad he didn't have to stay shut up in her house surrounded by all those cats again. It wasn't that he didn't like it there – after all Mrs Figg let him do what he wanted and had even given him cake before – but she was some sort of cat breeder and so had a dozen or so cats in her home at all times.

* * *

A couple of hours later Harry was still waiting for something to go wrong. Marge hadn't been able to come up with someone to look after Harry, although she'd tried valiantly, and so all four of them had headed out to London Zoo where they were to meet Dudley's gang. Before they left Marge had pulled Harry aside to have words with him.

"I'm warning you," she said, shoving him against the wall, her heavy arms pinning him in place, "If you do anything, anything at all to ruin Dudley's special day, I'll make sure to wring your neck. And this time I'll do it properly."

"I'm not going to do anything, Aunt Marge. I swear."

"You. Had. Better. Not. Boy"

Marge hadn't believed him. But then she never believed in anything or anyone that didn't fit with her narrow view of the world. Just like her brother. At the zoo, he kept waiting for something to go wrong, nothing ever worked out when Marge Dursley was around. Every time his aunt had to allow something good to happen for the sake of appearances, like when he was given his own ice cream because even Marge couldn't explain to the zoo employee why he didn't deserve one, or when he was allowed a full lunch, he just knew something bad would happen. The better the day got, the closer it got to a nice day out, the worse he knew the blow up would be.

After lunch the group found themselves in the reptile house. It was cool and dark with hundreds of exhibits with lizards and snakes crawling and slithering around behind glass screens. Harry could have sworn that he could hear voices from some of the enclosures, little whispers and snatches of conversation. But when he looked closer it was just the reptiles in there, no speakers and no people. Harry dashed around the room quickly finding the largest and deadliest snake in the place, a King Cobra. The snake looked bored, but suddenly, slowly, it raised its head and appeared to wink at Harry.

Harry stared in shook. That couldn't be right. Quickly looking around to see if anyone was nearby, he turned back to the snake and winked back at it. The snake jerked it's head towards Marge and then raised its eyes level with Harry. Somehow he just knew what it was trying to say.

"Sorry about her. I get people like that here all the time."

"It's fine I've dealt with her for years." Harry murmured trying not to feel stupid at talking to a snake, after all even if it could understand him, it still couldn't speak. The snake appeared to nod making it all the more likely that it understood what he was saying, "Where you from?"

The snake motioned towards a sign, _**King Cobra, India.**_

"India huh. What was it like?"

The snake jabbed it's tail towards the sign again and Harry noticed there was more to it, _**This specimen was bred in the zoo.**_

The snake nodded again just as a deafening screech echoed around the reptile house.

"Boy! What are you doing! Talking to snakes what utter nonsense." Marge was fuming and was practically charging towards Harry leaving Dudley's gang and Petunia in her wake. "You no-good insolent brat. Your just like your parents a worthless freak. Harry Potter the son of a drunkard and a whore -"

Marge had finally reached Harry, she shoved him hard. Harry fell head first to the floor, anger and rage pooling up inside of him. Marge had rounded on the enclosure instead now and was banging on the glass with her meaty fists. Harry stared, the pain in his head was throbbing, and a warm tingling feeling spread through his entire body and then as suddenly as the feeling began both it and the pain vanished. But that wasn't the only thing. The glass to the Cobra's enclosure had vanished and Marge had fallen in.

The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits. As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "India, here I come... Thanks, young mage."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. "But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

The zoo keeper and the director of the zoo apologised repeatedly to Marge, but she paid them no mind, simply swearing up a storm and threatening them with legal action. Petunia on the other hand was extremely amused she knew exactly what had happened and thought it well deserved. Petunia, Harry and Dudley slipped away from Marge to return to Hallerton Road with Dudley's friends who were being picked up from the house later that day. But Harry just knew that Marge wouldn't let this go and neither would Uncle Vernon when his sister eventually got to tell him what happened.

Later that night, as Harry lay on the small mat in his old cupboard, where he still had to stay whenever Marge was around, he listened to the argument between his Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge. After all this time he was used to Marge's rants and the sting of both her and Vernon's beatings, but this time he couldn't help but wonder if she had a point.

"Petunia, I'm telling you, there's something rotten with that boy. You should get rid of him." Her voice echoed through the house. "I know he's your blood but there's only so much you can do for one as damaged as him. You saw what happened today, I'm sure it had something to do with him."

"Look. Marge. It doesn't affect you." Petunia shouted back, "He's family and no matter how difficult he is, it is my job to raise him. I wasn't given a choice."

Harry laughed a little to himself at that, his Aunt had no love for him and in fact had never taken an active part in raising him. He couldn't help but consider Marge's words. All around him strange things had happened and then today, there'd been that strange feeling flooding through his body right before the glass disappeared and now he had to wonder, had he done that.

And if he had, what did that mean?


	3. Chapter 3

**July 10th**

Harry whistled to himself as he wandered down the road, it had been just over two weeks since Dudley's birthday and he'd finally been released from his bedroom where Vernon had locked him in. This time he'd been lucky enough to escape unharmed other than being locked up for a couple of weeks and only being given a sandwich a day. When he'd been let out earlier today he'd not been at all shocked to discover Dudley had already destroyed most of his birthday presents, with the new rugby ball Harry had bought him being one of the few that was still in one piece.

The time in his room had given him a lot of time to think, and although he couldn't be certain he was pretty sure that every time something strange had happened around him, he'd felt the same rush of energy through him that had occurred at the zoo. It must have been him that has caused the glass to vanish that was obvious now. He'd spent the last two weeks trying to replicate it.

The first thing he'd decided he needed to do was to focus on the feeling of heat that had encompassed his body. He'd spent hours on his bed attempting to recall the exact sensation and on the third day he'd been shocked when a tingling sensation shot down his arm and a light spark had appeared on his fingertips. Upon his success it had become easier for him to replicate the feeling, he had a better understanding of it after all, it was akin to the feeling of water running across ones body except for the fact that it was within his body not outside of it. Once he got the feeling going, Harry decided to try and replicate the time he'd changed the colour of his teacher's hair, only he attempted to alter the colour of an old top. At first all that he'd been able to do was make a couple of coloured spots appear on the white fabric, but after half a dozen tries a ripple of light emanated from his fingertips and the top turned to a dark purple colour (he'd been aiming for a dark blue but he rather liked the colour anyway). From there his successes kept coming, although each time he achieved something he felt a little drained but it was getting better with time. It seemed that whatever power he had required practice to maintain. But he was getting there. After his success with that he'd decided to try a few tricks from some books he'd read. First he'd learnt to create a ball of light in his hand – he'd almost blinded himself in the process – and now he could control the size and brightness he created, and then he'd practiced levitating objects in his room. It wasn't an easy feat; he could only manage objects up to the weight of a football and even then he couldn't hold it for more than a minute. He had also realised that the reason he'd healed so fast from Vernon's beatings in the past was due to his mysterious abilities and so he wasn't as frightened of his uncle as before, after all unless he killed Harry it seemed he'd always be able to heal himself from it now. He'd also been able to repair objects – or at the very least ripped books and tops with holes in them – and make them cleaner, all in all he thought it was a great success and he couldn't help but wonder exactly how much he could do.

Harry was brought from his thoughts by a loud squawk above him. Harry looked up and saw a large brown owl circling overhead. The sight of an owl at daytime was strange, but even stranger was what appeared to be a letter tied to it's talons. The owl circled him again before coming down to land on the wall beside him. Harry just stood there for a moment in shock, after all who'd ever heard of owls delivering post, it seemed such a waste of time when there was already a perfectly efficient postal system in place.

It squawked again.

Harry once again looked at the offered letter, then slowly he reached out to untie it from the bird, trusting in his powers to heal him on the off chance the bird decided to attack. It did not, instead it simply allowed him to take the envelope before hooting once at him.

Shaking his head at the strangeness of the situation, Harry muttered a quick, "Thanks", and looked down at his letter, for it was definitely his there could be no mistake:

_**Mr. H. Potter** _

_**The Bedroom on the Third Floor** _

_**116 Hallerton Road** _

_**Westminster** _

_**London** _

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H. This was a novelty to him, not just receiving post by owl, but receiving post at all; the only person who would have ever written to him before was Jessie, but they'd been together most of the time when she was alive so there was no reason for him to have ever gotten post before. Shrugging to himself, Harry sat on the wall next to the owl, cracked open the seal and removed the parchment sheets within.

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY** _

_**Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE** _

_**(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)** _

_**Dear Mr. Harry Potter,** _

_**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.** _

_**If you require financial assistance, please contact us by return Owl for placement in the Monetary Assistance Scheme.** _

_**Term begins on September 1. The Hogwarts Express departs from Kings Cross Station Platform 9 ¾ at eleven o'clock. We await your owl by no later than July 31.** _

_**Yours sincerely,** _

_**Minerva McGonagall,** _

_**Deputy Headmistress** _

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY** _

_**UNIFORM** _

_**First-year students will require:** _

_**1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)** _

_**2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear** _

_**3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)** _

_**4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)** _

_**Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags** _

_**COURSE BOOKS** _

_**All students should have a copy of each of the following:** _

_**The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk** _

_**A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot** _

_**Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling** _

_**A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch** _

_**One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore** _

_**Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger** _

_**Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander** _

_**The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble** _

_**OTHER EQUIPMENT** _

_**wand** _

_**cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set** _

_**glass or crystal phials** _

_**telescope set** _

_**brass scales** _

_**Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad. PLEASE NOTE THAT OTHER SIMILARLY SIZED PETS MAY BE APPROVED WITH THE EXPRESS PERMISSION OF THE HEADMASTER.** _

_**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS** _

_**Yours sincerely,** _

_**Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus** _

_**Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions** _

"Huh!"

Harry looked at the letter in surprise.

Magic!

Well that explained a lot. It explained what his power was and why his aunt had always countered Vernon's "There's no such thing as Magic!" speech so valiantly. His aunt must know about magic, this must be what she planned to tell him on his birthday. He sighed, there was no way they'd ever let him go to a school of magic. And obviously if there was a school for others like him it meant he needed proper training.

"I'll have a letter for you shortly, I just need to pop home for a minute first."

The owl bobbed it's head and so Harry turned practically running the rest of the way back to the house, the owl flying along above him and perching on his windowsill at the top of the house. Quickly he ran up to his room and began writing a response.

"Take this to Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts, please," he told the owl, tying the letter to its leg. The owl barked at him before taking flight and appearing to blur across the sky aided by magic. Harry smirked, that letter should get their attention and it should also help to solve some of his problems. He assuaged his guilt from lying in the letter, after all what he had described did happen just not when he'd told them it had.

* * *

A soft hoot sounded as one of the school owl's soared into Minerva's office, upon removing the muggle style envelope from the owl she realised that this reply appeared to be quite long, which usually meant that one of the prospective students had questions about the magical world. It was probably from Miss Granger, McGonagall mused, that girl was a powerhouse of intellect. She opened the letter and read it a couple of times a deep frown appearing on her face and her body shuddering with restrained anger. Minerva stalked to the floo and summoned Albus, he had a lot to answer for.

"What's wrong?" He questioned almost as soon as he stepped from the grate.

"I've got a reply from Harry Potter, and –"

"That's excellent!" Albus interrupted clapping his hands together in joy.

"So you would hope, but something is very wrong… let me read it to you." She sighed, some of her anger leaving her, it was obvious Albus hadn't known anything was wrong with the boy. "Dear Professor McGonagall. Thank you for the generous offer to join your school for magic, while I would love to attend, I believe there will be a few problems preventing me from doing so. Firstly, my current financial status prevents me from being able to purchase the required items and as my relatives see me as nothing more than a freak and a drain on their lives they will not pay, and so I will have to request financial aid. Secondly and perhaps more urgent, I have no access to an owl of my own, and it would seem to be normal for your school, therefore communication would be difficult."

"A fair assumption and one that muggleborns have raised numerous times." He paused for a moment absently adjusting his luminous yellow hat. "Although the fact that his relatives are unwilling to pay for his supplies is surprising, it is not problematic after all Harry will gain access to his trust fund when he turns eleven."

"I'm afraid it gets worse Albus, much worse. My uncle detests any mention of magic to the point that I'm not even allowed to say the word or have any non factual books in the house. Although I believe my aunt may know the truth they have never informed me of magic and so I think convincing them to let me join a school for magic will be near impossible. Finally, I require someone to show me where I can purchase supplies and provide access to the monetary funding offered in your letter, as I have no idea where to locate such items." A sharp gasp escaped Albus' lips as she read the letter, his formidable power radiating through the room. "Sorry for the blood on the paper, my uncle hit my head into a wall earlier and it still hasn't quite healed. Anyway, I have a lot more questions and I would love to attend the school, but I need to stop writing. My aunt and cousin are going out for the day and my uncle wants me to touch up the paint on the house and clean out the pool. Kind regards, Harry Potter."

Silence reigned for a few minutes as Minerva fumed and Dumbledore paced around her study. "That does not sound good, not good at all. We'll have to go check it out," Albus finally said drawing his power back to him.

"Obviously," she drawled, "They tell a child he is a burden and a freak, his uncle slammed him in a wall hard enough to draw blood and then expects the eleven year old boy to paint the house and clean out the private pool while his still injured. Not sounding good, would be a paradise compared to this," she snapped.

"I'll check it out, I believe that in all likelihood we'll be bringing him back here, so I'll have the elves set up some of the private quarters suitable for him and alert Poppy in case he needs medical attention."

"Too right you will. And don't think you're going without me." Minerva decreed.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Albus chuckled his eyes twinkling merrily.

* * *

Harry slipped out of his room and down to the dining room, if he was careful he could probably sneak the additional paper he hadn't needed back to the drawer without being noticed. He was just returning the paper to the drawer when his uncle's voice bellowed in his ear.

"You think you can steal from me Freak. That's it! Petunia! Dudley! Get in here," Harry felt himself being yanked away by uncle Vernon who practically chucked him into the dining room table. Slumping to the floor Harry looked up at his uncle's quickly purpling face. Petunia and Dudley flew into the room, Dudley froze in the doorway shock evident in his eyes, Petunia froze for a moment as she and Harry locked eyes. For that fleeting moment Harry saw a tiny piece of truth in his Aunt's eyes, the fear plain in her narrowed pupils, the widened eyelids, the stunned expression – she may love her husband, but she was also terrified of him. Within moments she had drawn her expression into one of normalcy and began fussing over Dudley and glaring at Harry. Harry's eyes locked back on uncle Vernon, whose fists had clenched. The large man was spitting with rage.

"We took you in! Gave you shelter! Out of our own goodness! I knew I should have gotten rid of you the moment you turned up. And now you think you can help yourself to our property!" Uncle Vernon let loose his full roar on the last two syllables, physically shaking Harry with his meaty hands.

Harry was already feeling dizzy from the second knock to his head in as many days and so when Vernon hit him with a thick book from the table, he gave into the pain and the welcome blackness that overtook him as his consciousness fled leaving him to slump in his uncle's arms.

* * *

Petunia clutched Dudley to her in fear as she watched Vernon drag Harry out of the room and up the stairs, she'd known it would happen eventually. Ever since she'd first noticed Vernon beating on Harry she'd known eventually he'd go to far. And yet she was to weak to stand up to him, she may not like Harry – mainly because of his resemblance to the man that had gotten her sister killed – but no child deserved to have their head repeatedly smashed into a wooden table. She'd flown towards her son, terrified to act even the slightest bit out of character… Vernon had never turned on her or Dudley but… well he hadn't exactly been kind either. Now as she stood there clutching her son against his protests she knew her husband had gone to far, soon the freaks would come for the boy and if they found him in this state – or heaven forbid dead… well they wouldn't be kind. Of this she was sure.

Absently she noted, Vernon was already ambling back down the stairs, a series of sharp knocks had sounded from the door and he was heading to answer it. As the door swung open, Petunia who had moved out into the hallway was greeted with a sight she had dearly hoped to never see again.

A very severe woman dressed in deep red robes over old styled trousers and a shirt, with her hair in a bun and a set of square glasses enhancing her piercing glare that was directed at Petunia. Petunia remembered her, remembered when she came to their parents house, for Lily. She looked almost exactly the same now as then, the last twenty years barely showed on her face. Behind her was a tall old man with long silver hair and beard dressed in horrid blue robes with clouds moving across them, he too wore glasses although they were half moon rather than square. Petunia had never seen him before, but she knew exactly who this was, Albus Dumbledore the man who had denied her entry into his school. Most of the time the faces of these formidable magicals would offer kindness to those who saw them, but not this time. Instead, their faces showed no traces of kindness simply anger.

* * *

Albus left McGonagall to deal with the Dursley's, Petunia hadn't resisted his legilimancy scan and had shown him much of her husbands treatment of Harry and to a lesser extent his mistreatment of herself and her son. Petunia wasn't going to interfere and had in fact planned to tell Harry of his heritage when he turned eleven – having no idea that her nephew had already discovered his letter – it was Vernon Dursley who was the issue and Minerva was more than up to containing the brute until they sent aurors later. He hurried up the stairs following a feint whimpering noise to the topmost floor, when he got to the door that he knew led to Harry's room he froze in shock and anger. There were four different locks keeping it shut, and a single cat flap installed at the bottom left of the door. Barely sparing a moment, he raised his wand and vanished all the locks, the door giving way allowing Albus to step into the room. The first thing he noticed upon entering the room was that the whimpering had stopped.

The room was bare, only the bare necessities were there except for a single football and the clothes in the wardrobe he could have been mistaken for thinking the room had no permanent occupant. Albus' gaze was drawn quickly to the bed positioned against the far wall.

Sitting with his back against the wall and his thin duvet drawn around him and evidence of tears on his face. Albus would recognise those vivid green eyes in any crowd not to mention the face and hair that highlighted his Potter heritage – although he had to admit the boy wasn't the perfect copy of James he had expected, his features were a much more balanced mix of both his parents. He hurried for the boy's side.

"What are you doing here?" Harry questioned, snapping his head forward to look at the strangely dressed man before him.

"Sorry Harry, I -" Albus gestured at himself, "am Professor Albus Dumbledore, and I've come to help you, with a colleague of mine, Professor Minerva McGonagall."

"From Hogwarts." Harry recalled, the pain in his head receding enough for him to remember writing the letter, and his uncle attacking him afterwards.

"Yes. If it's all right with you, can I scan you for injuries?" Albus asked pulling his wand from his robes.

Slowly Harry nodded, staring at the wand in confusion, "Uh. Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Is that a wand?" Harry questioned curiously.

"Why, yes it is, can you tell me what happened?" Albus asked casting a diagnostic charm on Harry. He gasped at the result, currently Harry had a mild concussion, a dislocated shoulder and a partially healed broken nose – it was a miracle the child didn't appear to be in any pain – he waved his wand absently, fixing the injuries.

"I was being punished." Harry began the tension leaving his body as his pain was eased, "my uncle caught me returning some paper to the drawer. He said that people like me shouldn't get to use their stuff. It isn't the first time either, he locked me in my room for the last two weeks after I made some glass disappear at the zoo – I didn't even know that it was me doing it at the time – and he's beat me frequently through my life. They treat me horribly I swear."

Normally Albus would be inclined to believe Harry was exaggerating, but he'd been in Petunia's mind, he knew the boy was actually sugar coating his treatment at his relatives hands. "Very well, I'll take you back to the school with me, if you want to come that is?" Albus declared.

"Will I have to come back?" Harry questioned, "I really don't want to come back."

"I will do everything in my considerable power to ensure you do not need to return here – and if you have to it will only be for short periods of time to recharge the magical protections you gain from living with your aunt." Albus began, well aware that no matter how much he may want to take Harry and never look back he couldn't. The blood protection was far too important. "Either way your uncle won't be here, the authorities from magical society will be taking him into custody."

"Really? You promise?" Harry asked sounding unusually quiet.

"I promise. Now is there anything here you want to take with you?" Albus asked pulling a trunk from his pocket and enlarging it, earning a gasp of shock from Harry.

Harry nodded and tentatively stood up from the bed. Walking around the room he emptied his wardrobe, collected his football and his only other possessions, his primary school books and a small box containing a few small trinkets from his friendship with Jessie. He dropped them in the trunk and stared up at the Professor, a smile gracing his face.

"I'm ready!"

"Very well then. Let us collect my friend and we shall leave."


	4. Hogwarts Here I Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, so this isn't a new chapter, that will be coming shortly as I lost my original copy of the chapter and am having to rewrite it, it's a repost of chapter four as I have made a small change near the end of the chapter in the conversation between Harry and McG about going to Diagon Alley. I have changed it because I felt Minerva would have been to strict of a shopping partner on her own and I need Harry to make at least one elaborate purchase in order for my planned plot over the rest of the books to work.
> 
> I'll probably have chapter five up over the weekend sometime, I have already rewritten half of it so it shouldn't take to long to finish.

Albus had already made his way down the stairs giving Harry a moments privacy. Harry took one last look around his room and simply shrugged, walking towards the door, he had no fond memories of this room or this entire house. Slowly Harry made his way back down the stairs, stopping when he heard voices coming from the living room.

"I've contained the uncle Albus, the son seems to be in a state of shock but is otherwise unharmed and as you know… Petunia is distraught over what she allowed to happen to Harry. She honestly regrets it." A woman Harry assumed to be Professor McGonagall was saying.

"I've alerted Alastor and Kingsley, they're handling the case personally and will be here once Bones authorises the warrant." Dumbledore told her.

"Good. I'll wait here for them. At least they'll handle this with discretion. After all what with Harry's status -" Professor McGonagall stopped at that moment as a loud creaking came from the staircase.

Cursing, Harry made his way down the rest of the stairs guilt written on his face.

"Sorry." He murmured.

"Harry my boy, I was just talking to Professor McGonagall here," Albus gestured at the other professor completely ignoring eavesdropping. "She's going to wait here with your relatives until the authorities arrive, and I'm going to take you along to the school now, alright?"

After Harry consented and waved goodbye to Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore grabbed his arm and Harry felt an immediate sensation like he was being squeezed through a small tube kind of like what he assumed a meat grinder would feel like. Everything around him seemed to be closing in on him. He couldn't see, he could barely breathe. The only thing that stopped him from panicking was the Professor's soft grip on his arm, he could feel a warm energy all around him propelling him forwards, and then suddenly he stumbled, the sensation ended almost as soon as it had begun. Harry jolted into contact with the earth, his legs falling out from under him. He threw his hands out in front of him to slow his fall, his solid grip on Dumbledore's arm was no more.

"Are you alright, my boy," Dumbledore asked, cautiously, holding out a hand to help Harry up.

Harry nodded, but did not speak, pushing himself to his feet and taking in great gulps of air to centre himself.

"I'm afraid it does take some getting used to," Albus explained, watching as Harry began to regain his composure.

"What was that?" Harry asked finally.

"It was a form of magical transportation, used by wizards and witches, it is known as apparition." Albus began a smile gracing his face as he slipped into a lecture. "The act of apparating allows wizards to disappear, disapparate, from one place to another, when they appear it is known as apparating, at a near instant pace. It is a difficult act to manage which requires an extensive knowledge and acceptance of ones own body and the place they wish to appear at. In Britain it is a restricted act and only those who have reached our communities majority of seventeen and have passed a Ministry approved test are licenced to perform it. In certain circumstances where someone is not able to apparate themselves, another licenced wizard can transport with them, by encompassing the passenger within a field of their own magic. That is what we just did."

"So, what I can do, it's magic?"

Dumbledore nodded, confirming what Harry had already known.

"What exactly have you been able to do?" Albus asked, his curiosity at the young boy before him growing. The way Harry was talking made it seem like he could do some magic intentionally; while not unheard of it was very rare for untrained wizards under the age of eleven to have control over their powers.

"Before I realised it was me doing it, I did all sorts of things. I vanished and reappeared in different places a couple of times, I turned one of my teachers hair blue, I regrew my own hair overnight after my aunt Marge shaved it off, I repaired a window that I'd fallen through, I vanished a glass wall at a zoo and spoke to a snake."

Dumbledore's smile faltered for a moment, but just as quickly it returned as he filed the information away for a later date.

"Since I realised it was me doing this I've learnt to do a couple of things. First I learned to draw on my magic and after that I learnt to change the colours of objects, conjure light, levitate objects, repair and clean things up and heal myself from injuries at a faster rate than normal." Harry said excitedly.

"Remarkable." Dumbledore commented. "You say you were able to do all of these things intentionally without a wand?"

"Yeah. Is that unusual?" Harry asked worried that something was wrong.

"Very," Dumbledore began carefully, "It's not a bad thing, far from it in fact. But it is extremely rare and you would do well to keep the fact that you don't need a wand for all types of magic quiet. If you want I can have some tests run later to find the exact reason, but this is a very useful advantage. One day you may not even need a wand."

"There's a magical Ministry?" Harry asked attempting to change the topic, it was obvious to him that the headmaster was uncomfortable with what Harry had told him. Albus nodded. "So what there's a whole society of… witches and wizards hidden across the world?"

"Indeed. We number very few in comparison to our muggle – non magical – counterparts, but yes we exist in every country secreted away from the persecution we once faced." Albus explained, internally fuming at how little Harry had been told – even if he understood why Petunia hadn't felt qualified to explain it.

"Interesting." Harry mused mostly to himself, he wondered how many of the stories he'd heard at school were true and just what awaited him in this magical world. "If you don't mind me asking, where exactly are we?"

Albus smiled, he loved this bit. "We, Harry, are in Scotland. Just outside of one of Britain's completely magical towns, Hogsmeade, but more specifically, we are at the gates to Hogwarts Castle. The home of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry stopped, and turned facing the direction Dumbledore had pointed. The sight that greeted him took his breath away. It was one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen. Outlined by the setting sun, perched on a rocky outcrop the large castle stood tall and proud, with high turreted towers, gargoyles and statues and a myriad of stained glass windows. Below the castle there was a large lake and luscious green fields leading off towards a forest on one side and some sort of stadium along the other. He had expected the grounds to be empty, after all it was the school holidays, and yet a few clumps of people were grouped across the field with a couple of people flying in the air on what appeared to be broomsticks!

It was a truly magnificent sight.

"Who are they?" Harry asked, moving to keep up with the headmaster who was striding towards a pair of wrought iron gates.

"Students, who much like yourself, with nowhere else to go. Whether that is because they have no family to speak of, or because their home life was unsustainable, Hogwarts offers them sanctuary during the summer. A handful of our Professors live at the school and take it in turns watching out for the students." He explained opening the gates with a flick of his wand.

"How many are there?" Harry asked his eyes shining with curiosity undiminished by the events of the day.

"We have ten students currently staying here, so you'll be number eleven. Two of the students are in the year above you, but most are a few years older. Now, stick close to me Harry and they won't bother you. I'm going to take you up to our hospital wing so that our healer can check you out for any remaining injuries." Harry let out a groan at this. "Once she has given you the all clear, I'll get you set up in some quarters for the summer and start to explain the wizarding world to you."

The two strode through the wrought iron gates and cut a quick path up to the castle, passing greenhouses and a small cabin as they went. Entering the entrance hall, Harry was met with his first site of the inner workings of Hogwarts. It was quite literally magical. The stone walls were lit with warm flames illuminating a ceiling so high he couldn't really make it out, and a magnificent marble staircase, at the base of which four gold statues stood. Two men and two women. All along the walls there were various painted portraits of different sizes and they were moving, clamouring about to get a good look at him and the headmaster and whispering excitedly to each other.

"Wow!"

"Welcome to Hogwarts Harry. Welcome home!"

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?"

Albus sighed he had just entered his office when Severus burst in, his robes billowing around him and his characteristic scowl on his face.

"Whatever do you mean, my boy?" Albus questioned.

"You know full well what I mean. Albus." Severus spat glaring daggers at Albus. "Blake Mead, informed me that you brought Potter to the school today."

"That's correct Severus, but you must understand -"

"But nothing Albus." Severus growled. "He's not even started school yet and he's already flouting the rules. Saint Potter, the spoiled arrogant brat, couldn't wait for September with the rest of the brats before he started flaunting his fame -"

"Enough!" Albus implored, power pouring into his words. "Yes, I brought Harry to the castle earlier today. Minerva and I decided it was best given certain… circumstances. Harry is currently in the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's care."

Severus's eyes flickered briefly in surprise, before he schooled them back to an empowered stare. "What has the idiot child done to require such measures?" he asked finally malice dripping in his tone.

"He was attacked. By his uncle." Albus informed Severus with a sigh. "It would seem that his uncle has systematically abused Harry for most of his life -"

Severus scoffed. "Headmaster, surely you don't believe this. Potter has obviously injured himself likely while fooling about with his muggle friends – no doubt doing something highly dangerous and deplorable – and has concocted this story to save himself from your disappointment and embarrassing himself. Surely, you don't actually believe his story. He's wasting your valuable time and effort with a tall story to get to see the castle early."

"Thank you for your concern Severus." Albus said earning himself a scathing look from Severus. "Take a seat and I shall explain." He implored gesturing to one of the seats in front of his desk.

"Out with it then!" Severus barked.

"Earlier today, Minerva received a response to Mr Potter's acceptance letter." Albus indicated the letter still open on his table. "Harry had spent his entire life being told he is a freak and a burden -"

"I see nothing wrong with that assessment," Severus drawled and rolled his eyes at the headmaster's melodramatics. The boy was hardly normal after all he had survived the impossible and as James Potter's spawn he would never pull his weight in a household – just like his father – he would expect to be pampered and anything less than that just wouldn't hold with his world view, Severus was sure of this.

"Severus. Please just listen." Albus waited for Severus to nod before continuing. "They had not told him anything about magic or his parents and had only bought him the bare necessities more or less coming down to new clothes and food. I found Harry locked into his bedroom with four locks keeping his door shut and a cat flap from which they pushed him food. He had a dislocated shoulder, a concussion along with a gash to his head that had begun to heal and a broken nose."

Albus stopped for a minute to collect himself.

"I healed these injuries and asked him what had happened. That however was just for his benefit, I had already performed legilimancy on Petunia and so I was fully aware of what had happened. Vernon had kept Harry locked in his bedroom for weeks following a harmless bout of accidental magic and upon Harry being released from the room, he went out where he received his letter and then got caught returning paper that he hadn't needed for the letter. His uncle caught him and straight out attacked him in front of his wife and son, before chucking him back in his room where I found him later. From what I have been able to gather, this is hardly the first time. Until Harry turned six he had been kept in the cupboard under the stairs with only his cousin's clothes to wear – which were so large on Harry he had to hold them up with multiple different strips of rope – and barely fed at all, every time Harry's uncle has needed to take out his anger, he has beaten Harry, especially after occasions of accidental magic. It stopped for a short period of time when Harry and his only friend became closer and her parents became suspicious, however there was an accident and long story short the girl died. In general Harry has been abused by his uncle physically and emotionally - with his aunt only stepping in when there was no other option out of fear of her husband, and very occasionally participating herself – they only gave him the bare minimum of food on average and often he went periods of time with no food at all."

Severus slumped in his seat, his already pale skin went whiter still as he stared at Albus with shock evident on his face. Severus could look past many things but child abuse well…

"What have you done with him?" he questioned, his tone dangerous and holding a promise of retribution. Albus idly picked up a metal sphere from his desk, twisting it in his hands.

"Currently," he responded, "nothing."

"You did nothi -" Severus began jumping up and advancing across the room staring daggers at Albus, who cut him off once more.

"I left Minerva with the Dursley's, all three of them. I decided it was more prudent to get Harry out of their and bring him to have his injuries examined as although I performed field measures it was still bad enough that a medical examination was necessary. I will not let this matter go unaddressed, but the important thing was getting Harry to a safe place."

Severus muttered something under his breath and returned to his seat still seething. "I will happily deal with the scum myself,"

Albus looked at Severus fondly, he had always known the man had a soft spot for children somewhere behind his walls and persona of indifference. "That will not be necessary. Minerva's dealing with them as we speak and our auror friends have already been dispatched to take the uncle into custody with discretion."

"Discretion Albus! He abused a ten year old child! He deserves not one ounce of compassion." Severus snapped.

"Relax Severus, I agree on that front, however there are two children involved here," Dumbledore explained, "I simply meant that the aurors would be arriving under the guise of muggle police in order to keep this under wraps in our world for as long as possible."

"Understood." Severus responded, "Am I to assume that the boy will be joining the summer residents from now on?"

"Yes, once he has been released from the hospital wing he will be escorted to Diagon Alley to get his school supplies, before we integrate him into the student population for the remainder of the summer." Albus explained, before replacing the sphere on his desk and wandering over to one of his bookshelves.

"If you don't mind Severus, I'd like you to return this to the library," Albus stated holding the book out to Severus in a clear sign of dismissal. Grabbing the book, Severus stalked away leaving Albus alone in his office once more.

"Oh. Fawkes, what have I done?" Albus murmured petting his Phoenix companion and considering just what his actions had led to. Fawkes let out a comforting trill at his master's guilty admission, knowing full well that what had occurred today had changed the course of history and had saved his master's young charge further pain and misery at the hands of the large muggle man.

* * *

The next morning, upon waking Harry kept his eyes closed for several minutes, trying to convince himself not to be upset when it all turned out to be a dream. But when he finally cracked his eyes open, he found he was in the same bed he'd gone to sleep in. Here he was lying in a bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts castle where the school… Healer… had requested he stay the night while she ran more detailed magical examinations of his body and injuries. It hadn't been as bad as he'd feared, she really was quite nice although he got the impression she could be strict if and when necessary. There were voices nearby, approaching him, and so he closed his eyes feigning sleep so that he could listen to what they were discussing without them realising he was up.

"Minerva, its bad, very bad. He's got a myriad of scars all over the back of his body that even I can't heal, his sights bad enough that no magic I know of can improve the damage. Then of course there's his growth, its been stunted and he's suffering from malnutrition – although it's not the worst case I've ever seen – I also had to vanish and regrow the bones in his arms and legs last night along with performing proper repairs on a few of his ribs where the breaks hadn't healed properly. In all honesty if I hadn't known better I would have believed this child had been part of the ancients war games!" The Healer, Madam Pomfrey Harry believed, exclaimed.

"Dear Merlin!" another woman exclaimed – Harry thought her voice sounded vaguely familiar – "We knew it was bad when we found him but I would never have imagined… Do whatever you can for him, and we'll just have to hope the rest sorts itself out with time and magical growth."

Opening his eyes once more, Harry turned his head to see the two women walking down the aisles of beds towards him. It was then he realised where he'd heard the other voice before, it was Professor McGonagall, the other professor who'd came to get him away from the Dursley's, or at least his uncle; his aunt wasn't too bad and his cousin had only turned out like he had because of the way his father raised him, and even then Dudley still had moments of compassion and kindness towards others, he wasn't completely lost and would probably become a better person once separated from his father's influence. Making a show of waking up, Harry sat up in the bed, grabbed his glasses and looked around for his stuff. The trunk the headmaster had leant him was at the foot of the bed. He scurried over to it and searched around for some of his clothes, before heading off to the bathroom at the end of the wing to change.

When he returned the Professor and Madam Pomfrey were waiting in a set of chairs near his bed, and a small container holding a myriad of coloured vials stood on the table beside his bed.

"Good morning Mr Potter how are you feeling?" the Healer asked gesturing for him to retake his seat on the bed.

"I'm great thank you." Harry paused, realising something. "In fact I feel stronger than I have in a long time."

"That's to be expected after what I had to do. I'm afraid, Mr Potter –"

"Harry," he insisted, Mr Potter didn't sound right to him.

"Mr… Harry, I had to vanish and regrow some of your bones last night, they had not healed properly from your many previous breaks and because of that their integrity was severely compromised." Madam Pomfrey explained.

"But I'm okay right?"

"Yes, your bones are all completely healed, I'm afraid I can't do anything for your eyesight, nor can I remove the myriad of scars on your back at this moment in time. However -"

Harry face flushed with embarrassment, croaked out, "Y-y-you saw them?"

"I'm afraid I needed to know how bad the damage was in order to render a complete assessment. It's nothing you need to worry about I visualised them all through spells, no need to look." Harry sighed in relief at this. "Now, you also show signs of malnutrition, I can help with some of that through the use of nutrient and growth potions, however I have no idea how long it will take for you to get to where you should be, it could take years. The nutrient potion is the golden potion and the growth potion is the green one, you need to take one nutrient potion with every meal and a growth potion at breakfast every day." Madam Pomfrey explained, gesturing to the container of what he now knew to be potions next to it.

"Now Harry, would you like some breakfast," Professor McGonagall questioned as Madam Pomfrey left them in private.

"Yes please, Professor, and thank you for yesterday," Harry responded gratefully.

"Skye?" The Professor called out.

A loud pop sounded and a small being with brown wrinkly skin, knobbly limbs, tennis ball sized grey eyes and large bat like ears appeared in the room. Harry scrabbled back on the bed momentarily from shock, but when he realised Skye wasn't harmful he returned to his previous position and watched the being curiously.

"How can Skye help, Mistress McGonagall?"

"Thank you Skye, can you bring young Harry something for breakfast, please?"

Skye looked around at the name and started jumping up and down on the balls of her feet.

"Of course! I'd be happy to serve little Master Harry Potter Sir! I'll have the food ready in a moment, Ma'am." She popped away again, leaving Harry staring in shock at the spot she had inhabited.

"W-what… No. Who was that?" Harry asked slowly, it was obvious to him that he'd just met a member of another species that he'd never even known existed and he was rather shaken.

"My personal House-Elf, her name's Skye. The school has over a hundred under employment here, it's a… beneficial situation, Hogwarts gets staff and the House-Elves get the purity levels of magic they need to survive and have somewhere that they are treated well. They're treated better here than most places in the country, which is extremely stupid on the part of those who mistreat them, after all House-Elves are extremely powerful people." Professor McGonagall explained to her confused wizard charge.

A tray full of different breakfast foods popped into existence in front of Harry and the Professor gestured for him to start eating. Harry quickly drank the potions, gagging at the taste, and was just about to start eating when a thought crossed his mind.

"How much do these potions cost, because I just realised, I don't have any money, I was going to ask for access to the school's monetary fund."

"That won't be a problem Harry, any medical help during your time at Hogwarts is covered under your tuition – that includes today now that we have taken you in as a ward of the school – and you do have access to money. Your parents left you plenty, your family was very wealthy – although I'd imagine all you'll have access to until you become an adult is your trust fund, it is still a very large amount of money that will serve you well for a very long time."

Harry looked up at this, his mind working a mile a minute as he put all the pieces together in his mind. "You knew my parents didn't you?"

"I did, very well." Minerva began, looking Harry in the eyes. "I taught them here in this very castle. I first met Lily Evans on January 26th four days before her eleventh birthday and on the day I introduced her to the wizarding world. You see your mother was what we call a muggleborn witch – although I'm partial to the American term of first-generation witch – and so she had no prior wizarding family members in her life, rather like yourself. I brought her into magical society and took her to get her school supplies." She looked off lost in memories. "She was so intelligent and beautiful, I was lucky enough to know her personally, not only was she sorted into the house I'm in charge of Gryffindor, but I got to know her and I'm proud to say I was friends with her and your dad after they finished their schooling. Your father, James –"

"My parents were called Lily and James?" Harry interrupted his eyes alight in joy and wonder at the literal treasure trove of information this woman was.

"Damn you Petunia!" Minerva muttered. "Yeah, James Potter was the last of the Potter family until you were born. He was a 'pureblood' wizard meaning that he came to a long line of witches and wizards. But make no mistake he was no better for that than you me or your mother and no matter what others in society have preached he knew that. We first met on his first day of school, he was something of a misfit. He was close friends with three other boys and they were always running about the place pulling pranks and lifting everyone's spirits. He was a brilliant if arrogant man and he had fallen for your mother only a couple of months after he met her, but let's just say she didn't find him very mature, it took them until their sixth ear at Hogwarts to finally start dating and they married just three months out of school and you came along just under two years later."

The look on Harry's face crushed her, it was obvious that this was the most he'd ever known about his parents.

"I'm not going to lie to you, at times your Dad could be a bit of a bully when he was younger, but he matured just before his sixteenth birthday, a few days after his uncle went missing." McGonagall stopped here a dark look flashing across her face.

"Thank you Professor. I have just one more question, if I may?" the Professor nodded her assent, somehow knowing what was coming. "How did they die?"

"I'm sorry Harry, this is a very sad story. But you can't go into the wizarding world without knowing, after all everyone knows the story… or at least most of it. When your parents were growing up there was a movement occurring on the fringes of our society, a Dark Wizard known as Lord Voldemort, was rising and gathering followers." she began, happy that the headmaster had finally broken her of the habit of flinching at the name. "He wanted to take over the country and there was a war. After they graduated school your parents joined the fight. There was a prophecy, the prophecy appeared to apply to either you or another child, who I'll tell you about later. Because of it Voldemort was intent on killing you and your entire family, although they were already targets. Your parents went into hiding and on Halloween of 1981. He killed your father and then your mother who died protecting you. He cast the killing curse upon you, and well… we don't know exactly what happened but somehow you survived it and the force of the curse destroyed Voldemort's body. You became the first and only person to survive the killing curse and also the defeater of Voldemort. The wizarding world hailed your defeat of Voldemort, you are very famous and are known across the planet as the Boy-Who-Lived." Professor McGonagall recited, no emotion colouring her tone only the pure facts and knowledge of that day.

It didn't make it easier for Harry but he appreciated her being able to tell him without breaking down, it allowed him to come to his own conclusions on how he felt about it. He was the reason his parents were dead and there was a prophecy connecting him to the man who murdered them, a man who may not be dead… he kind of preferred it when they'd died in a car crash.

"I'm not sure I like the idea of being famous for something I can't remember, if it was even something I did in the first place."

Minerva sighed, she could understand but the boy needed to understand his fame and why he was considered so important even if he didn't like it.

"I understand Harry, and I'm not saying you have to like it, but what happened that night changed our world over night and proved something once thought impossible was possible. You will find that most people in the wizarding world will recognise you on sight, that includes the students at the school and you will have to get used to the attention, I'm afraid, it will probably let up in time but most of the people you will meet were targets of the Dark Lord's mission and so will be very grateful for what you did that day."

Harry gave up realising that he wouldn't win this fight, instead he decided, he would focus on understanding this world he had been plunged into and learning as much magic as possible.

"What will we be doing today?"

"Professor Dumbledore is going to take you to a shopping centre in the magical world known as Diagon Alley, so that you can purchase your school supplies." McGonagall replied curtly.

"The Headmaster's going to be escorting me?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore decided that he would be the best choice as an escort because the magical populace are likely to react very strongly when you are recognised, but they are unlikely to be much of a bother around a wizard as well regarded as Professor Dumbledore." McGonagall explained.

A short walk through the castle later found Professor McGonagall and Harry standing in front of a fireplace in the head of house's office.

"Right, Harry. This will be your first lesson on wizarding travel, Floo travel." McGonagall told him, picking up a pot full of glittering green powder from the mantle. "All you need to do is take a pinch of this powder and drop it into the fire, like so -" she demonstrated causing the fire to take on an eerie green glow. "and announce your destination in a clear and concise manner. Understand?"

Harry nodded looking at the strange green flames with a hungry sort of anticipation.

"What about the Headmaster?" Harry asked when he realised the man hadn't appeared.

"He will be meeting us in Diagon Alley shortly, he will be coming directly from a meeting at the Ministry of Magic," Professor McGonagall responded, conveniently forgetting to mention that Albus had been called into the DMLE in relation to the Vernon Dursley investigation. "Go on, step in, as long as the flames are green they can cause you no harm."

Harry walked into the fire and he laughed at the warm feeling that flooded his body. The flames sort of tickled and were reaching out to embrace him like an old friend.

"Good, now tuck your arms into your body and when you feel like you're slowing down you need to begin walking on the spot. We are going to Diagon Alley, so either say that or a place called the Leaky Cauldron, and you will be transported to the same place, the gatehouse to Diagon Alley in one of the wizarding Britain's most famous pubs."

Harry nodded and spoke clearly, "Diagon Alley."

It felt as if he was being sucked into a giant funnel, he was shooting forwards very fast, a roaring sound echoing in his ears – glimpses of rooms from other fireplaces blurred past far to fast for him to even register the images before they were gone – and a sharp wind was blaring against his face, holding his glasses firmly in place upon his nose. Suddenly the sensation of being thrown forward lessened and he stumbled, attempting to start walking, and he fell, colliding fast with something or someone and being thrown harshly to the cold stone floor.

"Ouch!" Harry grumbled, the air knocked from his lungs and his glasses pressing oddly against his face and the stone floor.

"Oh my God!" a voice began, "I'm so sorry! Uhm, let me help you up,"

Someone reached a hand out towards him, he grasped it and allowed the stranger to help pull him up and set him back on his feet.

"Are you alright?"

Harry looked down at himself, dusting his jeans off before readjusting his glasses. The pub looked rather like the sort of old tavern he'd seen on tele, it was dark and shabby with people dressed in coloured robes scattered about, there were bottles pouring themselves at the bar, a woman who looked like a stereotypical muggle witch was sat on a stool in the back – although from what he'd already seen he assumed she was probably a Hag rather than a witch – and parents with little children sat shooting small coloured bubbles from their wands. It was amazing, the old fashioned lighting and furnishings, all of it appeared to have stepped right out of a storybook and the magic… it was simply magical there was no other word for it.

He then looked up at the person he had collided with, she was a girl his age, with long blonde dreadlocks pulled into a ponytail and bright blue eyes set out against her lightly tanned skin. Unlike the rest of the pubs inhabitants she was dressed in jeans and a top just like he was used to seeing in muggle London.

He recognised her at once.

"Helena?"


	5. The Ways of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets an old friend with burning questions on his mind and gains his first taste of the wizarding community with his first trip to Diagon Alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces my first OC into the series, Helena Chance, and so I hope you like my attempt at portraying a completely original character.

_He then looked up at the person he had collided with, she was a girl his age, with long blonde dreadlocks pulled into a ponytail and bright blue eyes set out against her lightly tanned skin. Unlike the rest of the pubs inhabitants she was dressed in jeans and a top just like he was used to seeing in muggle London._

_He recognised her at once._

" _Helena?"_

Harry did a double take; this was the last place he'd expected to run into someone he knew. Never mind Helena Chance, one of the most normal people he'd ever met. Harry smiled, the two of them had only met a couple of times and one of those on a competitive footing, but they got along very well.

"Hey Harry," Helena responded, her voice coming through with a strong American accent, showing none of his surprise at running into him in the wizarding world.

"You're a witch! Why didn't you tell me? Did you know I was a wizard?" Harry accused a horrible feeling settling in his gut.

Did she only pretend to like him because she knew he was famous?

"I didn't know about you when we met, and I couldn't tell you, we didn't really know each other all that well and well it's not al-"

"It's illegal to tell muggles – or those you believe to be muggles – about the wizarding world, exceptions are made for the direct family of muggleborns – like Ms. Chance – and muggle raised people – like yourself – but other than that this is the first law of the wizarding community." McGonagall helped out, having exited the Floo without them noticing.

Both children visibly relaxed as the tension between them dissipated.

"So, how do you two know each other?" the Professor questioned, ushering the two of them out of the way of the fireplace.

"Harry and I met two years ago at a football match between our schools. I was playing on the team and Harry was subbing in for someone at his school." Helena explained. "We've met a handful of times since then through school. Although even after you and Dumbledore brought me my letter in January, I never realised he was The Harry Potter!"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent apart from a muffled groan from McGonagall. The bald, toothless barman who had wandered over towards them, dropped into a bow and said, "Welcome back Mr Potter, it's so wonderful to finally meet you."

All across the pub whispers started up, and a great scrabble of people flocked across the room, and soon Harry found his hand being seized by patrons of the pub, all of whom seemed to want to thank him and ask about his wellbeing and at the same time Helena and Professor McGonagall seemed to have been shoved out of the way with the crowd closing in all around him. Harry didn't quite know what to do, it was extremely overwhelming and so shrunk back in on himself as all the patrons forced him to greet them.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

Were just some of the greetings Harry suffered through by the time that the patrons were queuing up to go again, Harry was certain that he'd encountered some of them before in streets and shops where they'd done strange things like bowing to him and running away.

A sound like a canon blast echoed through the pub followed by the familiar voice of Professor McGonagall.

"Enough! You should be ashamed of yourselves, mobbing a ten year old boy!" Some of the patrons backed off at this, thoroughly chastised. "Leave him alone and get back to your business." McGonagall snapped, dispersing the rest of the crowd as she returned to Harry's side.

"Thanks Professor," he said, before glancing off to her side questioningly.

"Ah, yes, Miss Chance sends her apologies for causing a scene and for leaving in a rush, her parents were waiting for her outside." Professor McGonagall responded calmly. "She did suggest that you Owl her though."

Harry grinned and nodded, allowing her to lead him out the back of the pub, into a ... empty walled off courtyard…

"What?" Harry muttered, earning a tight lipped grin from the Professor.

"Watch closely now, Harry." The Professor pulled her wand and tapped a brick three times.

The brick wiggled and receded into the wall and turning off to the side as all the bricks shifted positions reforming into a wide archway leading on to a winding cobbled street that continued as far as the eye could see.

"Wicked!" he exclaimed.

"It is indeed," McGonagall confirmed leading the way through the crowds, many of whom parted to allow the formidable witch to pass upon recognising her. "Come along now, we're heading to Gringotts first, the wizarding worlds bank. It's the large white building slanting off to the side at the forefront of the alley. And a word of warning, don't stare, it's run by goblins and they'll likely startle you at first. It's part of what makes Gringotts so secure, you'd be mad to rob from the goblin race."

Harry took that warning in stride but didn't really think it necessary, after all a goblin couldn't be more of a shock than a house elf, right?

"Where are we, Professor?" Harry breathed, swivelling his head from side to side in an effort to take in the amazing sights around him. Witches and wizards of all ages were milling about in their brightly coloured robes and clothes, owls were flying overhead dropping packages up and down the street. It was pure chaos. And yet it was beautiful and so alive. There were shops selling cauldrons, animals pets and all sorts of other mysterious items, a group of children were clamoured around a window looking in at the latest racing broom and part of the street was even obscured by odd coloured smoke issuing from an apothecary.

"We're in Diagon Alley, hidden from muggle eyes in the centre of Charing Cross, it's one of our communities top shopping districts. I'll show you the muggle entrance later." Professor McGonagall responded, leading him up to the bronze doors of Gringotts, where true to her words a duo of goblins stood dressed in scarlet armour with sharp spears clutched in their hands. The guards bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

The duo continued on into the bank proper, which turned out to be a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins in sharp suits were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. Many other goblins were ferrying people through the numerous doors around the sides of the bank, and working at teller stations dealing with queues the entire length of the hall.

"Uhm. Professor?" Harry asked wringing his hands together nervously.

"Yes, Harry."

"I was wondering what you could tell me about Hogwarts, specifically this Gryffindor house thing you mentioned earlier?"

"Well, the school was founded about a thousand years ago by four of the greatest wizards and witches of the age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin." She stopped pulling a small handbook from her robes. "They decided that they would take on select students to teach specifically, and so they created the housing system. Each of the four houses represented a personality aspect that they wanted to bring out in new students. Anyway, your parents were sorted into Gryffindor house, which I am in charge of, I was also a Gryffindor and so was the Headmaster. Here, take this book, it's a brief introductory pamphlet on the school, later if you want you'll be able to purchase a wider variety of books on the school for further information. But this will get you started." She explained, holding out the book which he accepted gratefully.

As McGonagall and Harry made for the station with the shortest queue, Harry cracked the book open and started to read.

"Morning, we're here to access Mr Harry Potter's trust vault." McGonagall said when they eventually reached the desk some twenty minutes later.

"You have his key?"

McGonagall held a tiny golden key out to the goblin and told Harry, "The headmaster has been protecting this for you all these years, now I'm returning it to you. Never lose it and only ever hand it over to a Goblin in this bank and those you trust to the ends of the earth."

"Very well, everything's in order." The goblin said handing the key to Harry, who tucked it along with the Hogwarts text into the pocket of his cheap jacket. The teller snarled something in a strange language and another goblin appeared from the side of the bank. "This is Griphook, the current apprentice to the Keeper of the Potter finances. He will escort you to your vault and will be able to answer any questions you may have about your finances."

"Thank you, Sir," Harry said.

Griphook led the two of them down a hallway until they reached a set of tracks that led into what appeared to be an underground caving system. There were sets of railway tracks on the floor, stepping up to the tracks, Griphook whistled and a cart similar in appearance to a mining cart came hurtling up the track and stopped in front of them. Once everyone was inside the cart, Griphook tapped the side of the cart and it began hurtling down the tracks.

"So Griphook, the Professor tells me that I have a trust account that I currently have access to, but of course she couldn't tell me what my other assets consist of, so?" Harry asked as they hurtled round a corner of the track.

"The Potter family have access to three different vaults within Gringotts," Griphook paused, and glanced at the Professor.

"Don't worry you can speak openly in front of her," Harry responded, he'd learned enough about the professor based off their brief conversations to understand she just wanted what was best for him.

"As you wish. There is the Potter family monetary vault, which contains all existing moneys and valuable metals and jewels your family has come into over the years apart from what is in your private vault and this will become accessible to you upon your majority. The Potter family heritage vault which contains all items the Potter family has collected and stored over the years, including the items which were recovered from the Godric's Hollow cottage after your parents deaths. You gain full access to this on your fifteenth birthday, but you are able to enter with your magical guardian at any time, you would just require their permission to remove any items. The keys to these vaults are held in trust by your current magical guardian, Albus Dumbledore." Griphook explained with patience not typically expressed by those of the goblin nation.

"Are there books?" Harry asked, his eyes practically glowing at the thought of long collected books on magic.

"I'd imagine so, however the main Potter library was destroyed along with the ancient residence of the Potter family back in the last war. So whatever remains is unlikely to be much compared to other significant knowledge stores like Hogwarts." Harry groaned realising that he'd have to build up a collection from scratch, although he would also have access to the Hogwarts library; but he imagined it would probably be busy during term time so getting his own books would definitely be a good plan.

"Can you provide me with information on the amount of money I have and an inventory of these vaults?" Harry piped up. McGonagall cast an impressed look upon Harry, he was handling himself in a much more mature manner than she expected and he seemed to be a very open person despite his upbringing.

"Certainly, the Potter family ledger can be sent to you before the end of the day." Harry nodded in agreement. "Now, your trust vault is a different matter entirely, originally set up by your parents two months before your birthday, it was set up with one thousand galleons split between galleons, sickles and knuts, with a separate investment portfolio that is still generating a decent profit to this date. However," Griphook stopped for a moment as the cart drew up to a small platform leading off to a thick metal door, the vault. After the three of them hopped out, the goblin continued, "Since the defeat of Voldemort ten years ago, your vault has received many contributions, some of these came from families whose lines had been almost completely wiped out in the war and who then left their money to you after your defeat of the Dark Lord. This also included some physical items which have been deposited in the heritage vault. In addition the vault also contains the royalties from the fictitious Harry Potter Adventure Series published under the pseudonymous author Gareth Luke Hart,"

Griphook was cut off by the Professors mutter of "Inconsiderate fame hound,"

Along with Harry's shocked cry of, "Books! About me?"

"Ah… yes… after the events of Voldemort's defeat a young wizard not long out of Hogwarts, Gilderoy Lockhart released a series of storybooks using your name and likeness for the main character. To begin with he succeeded in circumventing paying royalties to you due to publishing under an assumed name, but not long after the books were first commissioned his identity became public knowledge and although he was authorised to continue with the books he was required to pay royalties to you. The last book came out two years ago and the series has since been discontinued." Professor McGonagall explained her expression one of extreme displeasure.

"He could have at least come up with a smarter name," Harry quipped, doing his best to mask his annoyance at the man who had likely only encouraged and increased all the hype surrounding him. "I've known about it for only a few hours and I already hate my fame!" Harry exclaimed earning him a raspy sounding chuckle from Griphook.

Griphook unlocked the vault after Harry passed him the key, and Harry was sure his eyes must have widened in a comical fashion at the sight of all the money before him. Inside the vault were veritable mounds of golden coins. After a quick explanation on the currency Harry shovelled a heap of the coins into one of the expanded money bags hanging on the vault wall, marvelling at the spells that must have been used to allow it to hold all those coins and barely change in weight.

It was difficult for Harry, who'd always had the bare minimum – which normally came from cheap shops and brands unlike Dudley's stuff – to process the literal fortune he had access to, never mind the fact that this was only a small portion of it. He'd probably never have to work a day in his life. Not that it would stop him, after all life would get pretty boring without a job to keep him busy.

Another cart trip back up to the surface saw the duo returning to the teller desk where Griphook promised to send the ledger on to Hogwarts later that day and they thanked him for his help, and wished him a good day.

"We should start with your uniform I think," McGonagall announced, gesturing off in the direction of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"The uniform's robes right?" Harry asked curiously. The idea of wearing robes like the rest of the wizarding world seemed to wear was strange, but, Harry supposed, it was just another part of learning to fit in with the world he was meant to have been a part of his whole life.

"For the most part, however beneath the robes is the more typical school uniform you will be familiar with from the muggle world, with the robes typically being worn in open form, although that is the student's prerogative." McGonagall explained as they entered the store.

When they entered, Madam Malkin, a squat, smiling witch with flyaway red hair dressed in mauve, practically ran up to them.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked, already ushering Harry towards a measuring platform as he tried to respond. "Oh! Hello Professor, escorting a student today, hm? The Headmaster's here as well, in the back room picking up a shipment of those wacky robes of his."

Harry looked up at this, he had been wondering when Dumbledore would join them. Harry hopped up onto the platform next to another boy around Harry's own age with fair skin, slick silver-blonde hair and thin features set in a scowl, he was standing there with his arms raised as another witch pinned his long black robes around him.

"Right, Harry, I'll be leaving you in the Headmaster's care now, if that's alright with you?" McGonagall waited for an affirmative before heading off, leaving Harry alone with the pale boy and the pair of witches.

"Hello," said the boy, "I assume you're here for Hogwarts?" Harry nodded. "It's my first year, but I know a lot of what to expect about the castle and the school, after all I come from a long line of wizards all of whom have been educated at Hogwarts."

The boy's voice impressed a sense of arrogance and ponce that Harry knew only too well, some of the rich kids at his primary had spoken in exactly the same way, and it didn't do much to endear the kid to him, after all he hadn't even introduced himself.

"My father's up the road and looking at books and my mother and little sister are up the street looking at wands. When I eventually get out of here," the boy let out a long suffering sigh. "I'm going to go and look at the new Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom, I don't really understand why first years can't have their own. But I'm going to bully father into getting me one and then I might be able to smuggle it in somehow. Anyway, what about you, you came with a professor? What about your parents?"

"Ah, that's a little complicated, my parents are dead, and my situation is… complicated, so I'm currently under my… magical guardians watch at Hogwarts," Harry replied, racking his brain to remember the terms. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," he said although, Harry thought, he didn't sound like he meant it. "So, what house do you think you'll be in? I'll probably be in Slytherin. My whole family has been, you know – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I'd just leave wouldn't you?"

"No, while Hufflepuff isn't particularly where I want to be, I think it's one of the best houses -"

"How so?" the boy snapped back.

"Simple, it prizes loyalty and hard work. Qualities that are necessary for making your way in the world, after all without loyalty you have no friends or family and without hard work you'll never accomplish anything." The boy looked up thoughtfully at that.

"Personally I want to be in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw because I love learning and so a house that strives towards the pursuit of knowledge sounds cool and Gryffindor because my parents went there, and it sounds like the sort of place that'd be a lot of fun." Harry finished, using the information he'd read in the books to explain his decisions.

"I see…" the boy paused as though he was considering his words for once. "If you don't mind me asking, you said your parents were Gryffindor's, so, they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean." Harry spoke carefully, something about this turn of events unsettled him.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine."

"That's ridiculous!" Harry interrupted, anger coating his voice, this sounded like the kind of nonsense that had led to Voldemort's power base except that it was coming from a kid which did mean that not everything he was spouting could be his own ideas the concepts were far too mature for a kid that hadn't even interacted with the people he was talking about yet.

"First off, they still have magic and so that makes them the same as us. Also if anything magical society should learn the ways of muggles rather than expecting muggleborns to adapt after all how can you expect to stay hidden in secret if you can't even interact properly with the majority of the world."

"Well said Harry,"

Harry turned his head in the direction of the voice to see Professor Dumbledore descending the spiral staircase at the back of the shop a beaming smile on his face and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

"Rather than setting us apart, our differences should be what bring us together and help us move forward. After all if we stay at the same point while our muggle counterparts progress and advance, then they will surely discover our existence once again. What our world needs is a mix of aspiring minds from all different backgrounds in order to revolutionise our society and help protect the security of our community." Dumbledore continued, making his way down to stand off to the side waiting for Harry.

The blonde boy looked Harry up and down and a look of realisation and abject horror started to form on his face, and he spoke once again his voice filled with dread, accusation and a sense of defeat.

"What did you say your surname was again?"

Harry was saved from answering by Madam Malkin turning to him and saying, "All done, dear,"

"I suppose I'll see you at Hogwarts then," the boy drawled.

Harry and the headmaster left the shop after Madam Malkin promised to owl the order over to Hogwarts that evening along with a catalogue of wizard wear in the event that Harry decided he wanted to fit in more with the wizard raised students as only a small percentage of them wore muggle clothes outside of the required wearing of the uniform. They stopped off at the stationary store to buy parchment and ink, Harry found a rather nice bottle of colour changing ink, where the duo got into an intense discussion about the use of quills and parchment over paper and pens. Their next stop was the Apothecary where Harry purchased his cauldron and potion supplies, and then they stopped at Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore to buy Harry his school books, Harry also collected a selection of interesting books both in relation to his school subjects and the magical world in general – with Dumbledore giving his input as they went – including a copy of Hogwarts, A History to supplement the handbook Professor McGonagall had given him earlier. They then made their way to yet another store to pick out a top of the range magical telescope for his astronomy lessons before taking a break at the ice cream parlour down the alley, Florean Fortescue's.

Harry enjoyed the finest chocolate ice cream he'd ever eaten while Dumbledore himself indulged in a special sherbet lemon ice cream that the kind owner seemed to have made just for him. Appetite's sated, their next shop was a magical luggage store to get Harry a trunk and school bag. Dumbledore made many suggestions here, seemingly imploring Harry to look at the more specialised trunks with multiple compartments. Harry, who knew that he had more than enough money to afford it, acquiesced purchasing a three compartment trunk complete with a storage compartment, an office compartment complete with walls full of bookshelves and an apartment section that included a small bedroom with an ensuite and a miniature kitchen area. It was also spelled to be featherweight, and shrinkable. Each compartment required a separate key for entry with the office and living compartments only accessible by someone whose magical signature was connected to the keys. His school bag was expanded on the inside and had a modified featherlight charm that meant the bag would never be heavier than a regular school bag and would always return to his trunk if lost.

* * *

When Harry entered Ollivander's, a narrow and shabby shop with peeling gold letters marking it as: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C., he was almost knocked off his feet by the change in atmosphere. He was alone without the obvious power the headmaster radiated – Dumbledore having disappeared off for a moment, apparently to collect something – and yet he could practically feel the magic flowing through the place, it was warm and welcoming and seemed to be centred around the endless piles of small thin boxes ordered around the shop counter and heading further towards the back.

"Good afternoon," a voice said from behind him, causing Harry to jump a foot in the air as he spun around to find an old man with wild silver hair and large silver eyes that seemed to radiate intelligence standing there.

"Hello!" Harry responded confidently.

"Ah yes," said Ollivander. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

"Wands are sentient?" Harry asked, he understood how different magical species could exist, but object becoming sentient, it seemed so outrageous and yet Harry reminded himself, the portraits at Hogwarts were aware and moved around interacting with the residents of the castle so he had seen the like before.

"In a manner of speaking. Wands, despite their appearance are far more than simple sticks. Each and every wand has a core that comes from a magical being or substance and therefore is in itself magical. The residual magic from the core bonds to a magical wood and from there the magic gains a sort of awareness and is able to form attachments of like minded and magicked individuals and from there once the wand has bonded to an individual they grow and the magic of both the human and the wand will be encouraged to grow by the symbiotic nature of performing magic through a focus." Ollivander explained a joyous tone to his voice, it wasn't often a customer showed such interest in his craft.

"Right then, let's get you matched. Which is your wand arm?" he questioned pulling a long silver tape measure from his pocket and snapping his fingers at it causing it to open.

"My right Sir," Harry responded.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Try this one, acacia and unicorn hair,"

Harry took the proffered wand in his hand and held it tightly, unsure as to what he should do.

"Well?" Ollivander said, "What are you waiting for? Give it a wave."

Harry felt stupid, of course he had to give it a wave, he'd seen people perform magic with a wand, it required movement. Harry waved the wand, felt a slight pull on his magic, and one of the shelf stacks full of boxes came crashing to the floor.

"It would seem not," Ollivander said, practically snatching the wand out of his grip.

"I'm sorry," Harry quickly apologised, "I didn't mean to damage your shop."

"It's quite alright Mr Potter," Ollivander spoke with a smile. "It's part of the process you see, when a wand does not bind itself to a wizard, the channelling of magic through an incorrect wand can result in small explosions. Now, try this one, yew and acromantula pincer."

Carefully, Harry took the wand but he had hardly raised the wand when it too was snatched back by the wand maker.

"No, no. Try this one, cherry and dragon heartstring, nine inches."

Harry tried wand after wand but none seemed to have the reaction Mr Ollivander was waiting for. Some wands produced no reaction at all, others blew up parts of the shop and a couple released a few pitiful sparks at which point Mr Ollivander had muttered:

"Close, but not quite right,"

Before moving on and passing yet another wand to Harry. By the time the pile of wands Harry had tried almost reached the height of the counter, Harry was getting a little worried after all, maybe the fact that he'd used magic without a wand had caused a problem with his core, maybe a wand just wouldn't choose him. Mr Ollivander on the other hand only seemed to become happier with the more wands he snatched back.

"Oh, perfect. A difficult customer, eh? Not to worry, you've got a match here somewhere." Mr Ollivander wandered off to the back of his shop, and Harry heard a muttered, "I wonder…" echoing around the isles of shelves. He returned with a thin wand box covered with a layer of thick dust.

"Try this one," he said, almost reverently pulling the wand out of the box and handing it to Harry. "I've been reluctant to try this, but I made this wand and it deserves to be wielded. And it does seem the most likely match."

Harry took the wand, noticing that it was different to the others. It had a peculiar colouring to it and looked almost as if two lengths of rounded wood had been merged together into one wand, and down near the bottom was a beautifully crafted handle in the shape of a gem. Almost as soon as he took the wand in his hand a sudden warmth encased his fingers, and he knew instinctively, this was it, this was his wand. He flicked the wand, and a wave of glowing purple and gold sparks leapt from the wand falling like a snow storm around Harry.

"I believe we have found you a perfect match." Ollivander recanted a bright if concerned smile appearing on his face. "Holly and ebony, phoenix feather eleven inches."

"Thank you. I think it's singing with my magic," Harry told the wand maker, clutching the wand comfortingly in his hand. And he was right, the wand's magic was definitely interacting with Harry's, the hilt of the wand was pulsing with a soft white glow in time with his heartbeat.

"Indeed," Ollivander began, "it has certainly bonded with you. Although, I believe you will only truly unlock it's potential when you can accept the truth within yourself and stand tall striding across this world."

Harry looked back down at the wand and then up at the wand maker once more. That seemed strange, this wand definitely resonated with him and he had no idea what Ollivander could be referring to. It seemed like strange advice as a truth about oneself could mean many different things, how would he ever know when he had discovered it?

"Although it is curious," Harry's head snapped up when Ollivander said this, and took the wand back and placed it in the box.

"What's curious?"

"It's a wand which I've waited over five decades to match and it is one of my most tricky creations, after all I merged two of the most powerful wands together to create this beauty."

"It's special?"

"Very. Not only has it got a base in two powerful woods, but it's core comes from a phoenix. A very special bird who has given only two feathers in his lifetime. This wand is special because it has a twin, and that twin belongs to -"

"Lord Voldemort."

"Indeed. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. I must say Mister Potter, this wand will be the perfect tool for you, I think… I believe this wand is yours for a reason… great things will be done by the bearer of this wand. Make sure it is always yours. After all, He Who Must Not Be Named had great potential, and you know what he did with that wand. But you I think will make better choices… yes, this wand will protect you and see you through to the end."

Harry shivered. He didn't like Mr Ollivander much, but the wand was certainly right. Grabbing the box from Ollivander, he paid and rushed out of the shop not even saying goodbye to Ollivander.

In his haste Harry almost crashed straight into the headmaster, moving quickly, he stumbled on the cobbled path and righted himself, looking up into the headmaster's eyes.

"Harry? What's wrong m'boy?"

Harry didn't answer. He wasn't quite ready to tell the headmaster what had happened in the wand shop. Instead he focused on the cage in the headmaster's hand, within that cage was a magnificent snowy owl with bright amber eyes, it was watching him intently almost as if it was judging his worth.

"Aah, yes," Dumbledore began, his gaze following the exchange between boy and owl. "An early birthday present, she's yours."

"T-t-thank you." he gushed taking the cage, with the beautiful owl in, into his arms a wide smile on his face. His Aunt Petunia had given him one or two small gifts over the years, mostly related to his mother, but this was the first present he'd ever received from someone who genuinely cared for him without conflict in their hearts; oh, yes, he knew that a small part of his aunt cared for him, but something about him was holding her back and so she masked her feelings with hatred towards him... maybe it could change in time.

* * *

Mr Ollivander watched as Harry Potter left his shop, the pieces were slowly fitting together, the future was setting in stone… before long the young wizard would face a challenge far greater than any he himself could ever dream of, and he had to hope that his masterpiece would aid in the battle.

"Beautiful thing time." Ollivander mused, "I think that if Albus had waited just two more weeks to collect young Potter, well, it might have been too late." He gazed out his window tracking the young wizards path through the alley. "But now, now there is hope, hope for this dark future that awaits the fate of this world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My view of the cannon Harry and Draco meeting is that someone in the Leaky Cauldron informed Lucius of Harry's arrival in the wizarding world which is what Lucius had been waiting for so that he could arrange Draco's school shopping as an opportunity for his son to ingratiate himself with the Boy Who Lived, this is why the meeting between the boys still occurs even though this takes place three weeks earlier.


	6. The Bond of Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, one of my friends who reads this story pointed out to me that although, as I stated in the last chapter, Helena speaks with an American accent I had her referring to football as football rather than soccer, well this was an honest mistake on my part however I have decided to incorporate it into the story as Helena has been living in Britain for a few years – more on that in the next few chapters – she has adapted to use the English terms rather than the American-English ones in most cases.
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter, which is the longest yet at 6.9 thousand words, bringing the story up close with the word count for this point in Philosopher's Stone.

The next month and a half was by far the best Harry had ever had. After their trip to Diagon Alley the headmaster had taken him back to the school and shown him to a set of private quarters that were set aside for summer student use, before introducing him to the rest of the summer students and the Professors who stayed in the castle over the summer.

He had spent time reading his course books and studying magical society and what was expected of him under Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall's guidance, and he was pretty confident now in his ability to navigate the wizarding world. He'd also played a decent five aside game of football with the other students and kept up a constant stream of letters with Helena through the use of his new owl, who he had named Hedwig. He'd struck up a strong friendship with the Hogwarts groundskeeper, who despite his immense size, was actually a really kind and friendly man full of stories about Harry's parents, Hogwarts and magical creatures, especially dragons. Hagrid had even baked him a birthday cake which he'd given him before rushing off to Diagon Alley to pick something up for the headmaster – the man was a seriously bad secret keeper, having told Harry that he was collecting an important package from a high security Gringotts vault 713.

* * *

Harry took the Knight Bus to Kings Cross on his own, the other students having all gone to stay with friends for a few days near the end of summer, and after a fairly unpleasant and delayed ride where he was gawked at by the conductor who had spotted his scar, he arrived with barely fifteen minutes to spare. And now he was standing in the middle of a crowded train station having realised the professor's had forgotten to tell him how to access the platform, a bit of an oversight on their part and he couldn't even send them an owl what with Hedwig hauled up in the owlery at school. Luckily, he was dressed in a set of his regular clothes rather than wizard robes otherwise he would have stuck out like a sore thumb in the throng of muggles, and of course risk violating the statute of secrecy and wizarding law. Just as he began to consider leaving the station and summoning the Knight Bus back to the school, a group of people past behind him and Harry overheard part of their conversation.

"Hurry up kids, we're a little late and it's packed with muggles of course,"

Harry spun on the spot until he could see a large group of redheads and even if they hadn't been spouting off about muggles the owl cage on one of the boy's trunks would have given them away as a family of witches and wizards. There was a slightly plump woman joined by four boys, two of whom were clearly twins, and a girl all of whom had the same fiery red hair. Not wanting to lose them, Harry walked after them until they came to a stop just in front of a wall between platforms 9 and 10, he stood back close enough that he could hear what they were saying but far enough away that they wouldn't keep quiet in case he was a muggle.

"Right then, what's the platform number?" the mother said, clearly for the kids benefit.

"Nine and three quarters!" the small girl piped up, raising the hand that was held in a tight grip by her mother, "Mum, please can I go…"

"You're not eleven yet, Ginny, now be quiet it'll be your turn next year." The mother said turning towards her eldest son, "Right then, Percy, you go first."

The oldest boy, Percy, gave his mother a kiss on the check and pushed his trolley towards the wall at a run. Harry watched careful not to blink lest he missed it, but just as Percy approached the wall a group of men swarmed past blocking his view.

"Fred, you next," the mother said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said one of the twins. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred,"

Harry laughed, the twin sounded like a right joker. Harry hurried up to them, there was nothing for it he'd have to ask for help, he allowed the other twin to disappear to the platform before approaching the mother.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for the express to… Dumbledore's school," Harry said thinking quickly.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time? It's my son Ron's first year too." She pointed at the only one of her boys left, he was tall almost the same height as his twin brothers, thin and had the same fiery red hair as the rest of the family.

"Yes. It's just the professors have been a little distracted helping me and they forgot to show me, you know, how to get onto -"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, Harry nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, for those like us it's not really there. As it's your first time I'd suggest taking it at a bit of a run. Go on now before Ron."

"Thank you,"

This was one of the first times an adult with no reason to be kind to him had done so, it was the first bout of unconditional help and kindness Harry had received from any adult other than the Hogwarts staff and it was a very unfamiliar feeling to him. Taking a deep breath Harry waved at the redheads before running towards the wall closing his eyes seconds before he should have impacted.

He didn't.

Harry teared his eyes open and looked around marvelling at the sight before him. A proper old fashioned scarlet steam train greeted him taking his breath away. The sign above the train was emblazoned with the words Hogwarts Express and all around him students and parents stood around in a variety of wizard and muggle clothing chatting and saying goodbye while owls swopped overhead and cats (and the occasional dog) slunk around on the platform worming their way through the throng.

Harry made his way through the crowds until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his trunk, placing it on the ground next to him and enlarging it with a tap of his wand. He cast a glance around him watching all the happy families saying their goodbyes and felt a small surge of jealousy enter his heart. He quenched it and shook his head rapidly it would do no good brooding on things he would never have.

"Hey, do you need…"

"…some help with that..."

"…mate."

It was the pair of twins he'd followed through the barrier.

"Yeah thanks," Harry responded upon realising they were offering to carry his trunk for him.

They lifted it between them and helped him stow it in the rack above the seats with ease.

"Hey, are you sure you've got everything…"

"…this thing feels practically empty…"

Harry snorted, the twins way of speaking was rather amusing if you didn't mind keeping your head on a swivel. "Yeah, it's got an inbuilt weight charm and shrinking charms, which is why you didn't see it with me in the station."

"Cool."

"Hm. Thanks," Harry said reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you…"

"…he is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry.

"Harry Potter," chorused the twins.

Harry's heart fell. He had enjoyed talking to them like a normal person not the famous wizard he apparently was. He was still unused to all the attention even after living with the ten other Hogwarts students who were living at school with him – unlike the teachers who had gotten over their star struck nerves quickly, apart from Professor Quirrell, the students had spent most of the summer in awe of him although they were getting better. It probably hadn't been the best idea for him to arrive dressed in muggle clothes if he wanted to create a good impression on the wizard raised students who were expecting the vaunted Boy Who Lived; not that he wanted the attention, but Dumbledore had suggested it would be better for him to appeal to who they expected to see until they were able to get to know who he truly was.

"Yep, that's me." He replied with a slight groan.

It turned out he had little to worry about though, as soon as their theory was confirmed, the twins went back to the casual manner they had held before, it was quite comforting actually.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, but we best be going mum'll have our heads if we don't say goodbye."

"Oh, and we're Fred and George Weasley, but…"

"…you can just call us Gred and Forge," the twins lamented chuckling to themselves as they left.

Harry opened the window and sat down on the bench, distantly he could hear the Weasley twins talking to their mother.

"You'll never guess who we just met on the train?"

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Who?"

"Harry Potter!"

"Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, eh please..." the little girl, Ginny he remembered, piped up pleading with her mother.

"You've already seen him, Ginny, we should leave the poor boy alone, especially after that story in the paper, he's not something to gawp at… really…"

Harry smiled wistfully at the concern in her voice and then he turned away, he should probably stop eavesdropping before he heard something he wouldn't want to. A short while later the train set off and the compartment door squeaked open and the youngest Weasley boy poked his head in, a nervous smile on his face.

"Er, do you mind if I join you? Most of the other compartments are full."

"That'd be great, I'm alone in here." Harry said nodding his head.

The other boy heaved his slightly battered trunk onto the wrack and sat down opposite Harry.

"Oh, and one of my friends, Helena, will likely stop by later, that's not a problem is it?"

"Nah. Sounds great," Ron grinned, "She a first year too?"

Harry simply nodded, this was going rather well.

"I'm Ron Weasley." Ron introduced unnecessarily.

"Harry."

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded again.

"So the twins were telling the truth. They're pranksters, you see, so you never know with them."

"They seem like fun," Harry responded, noticing the slightly bitter tone to his new friend's voice. Friend. What a strange thought, he now had two friends, Helena and Ron. It had been a long time since he'd had a friend, after Jessie's death Harry had to admit he'd kept to himself. That couldn't go on. He supposed Hagrid was a friend of his as well, whereas Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall meant something different, something he couldn't really explain.

"They are, it's just… I have so many older siblings it feels like I'm stuck in the shadows of their greatness."

Harry could understand that, he supposed, it rather felt like he was unseen in favour of the hype over the Boy Who Lived.

"So, uh…" Harry broke the silence, "you've got a lot of siblings, huh?"

"Six yeah," Ron perked up a little bit, for once he realised, someone wanted to know about his family in addition to him not the other way around. He was the one who mattered. "Five older brothers and a sister. I'm the sixth in the family to go to Hogwarts, so ya could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George get really good marks and everyone thinks they're a laugh. I want to do better than them in some way and yet all I can think of doing they've already done. I suppose I'm closest to Ginny because of that, we were always the ones left at home while everyone was at Hogwarts, so, we spent most of our time together, but even she outshines me."

"I wish I had siblings, the closest I had was my cousin Dudley and we don't really get along." Harry sighed wistfully. Harry asked Ron about the work his parents and older brothers did. Turned out his mother ran a small day care for young wizarding children during the school year, his father headed the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office at the Ministry, Charlie was working with Dragons in Romania and Bill worked as a curse breaker for Gringotts and was currently based in Africa. All of a sudden Harry gasped and backed up a bit, a small rodent head was poking out of Ron's shirt pocket sniffing around.

"It's okay. He's my pet." Ron called out pulling the rat from his pocket. Harry relaxed a bit, at least it was domesticated. "This is Scabbers. He used to be Percy's but when he made prefect my parents bought him an owl, and well they couldn't afford… I mean so now I've got him." Ron stumbled his face reddening almost to match his hair.

Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford a new pet. Especially since he'd never had much money in his life until he learnt about his inheritance, and if anything it was obvious that the Weasley family more than made up for their lack of money with the amount of love and kindness they all seemed to exude.

"That's cool I suppose…" Harry sighed. "Sorry, he scared me a little, I don't really like mice or rats… but a pet's fine I just wasn't expecting it."

"It's fine, but you don't need to worry about Scabbers. He's been with the family for years and he's never caused a problem."

Harry smiled and nodded, "I'll get used to it, I'm sure. I have an owl, but she's up at the school."

They lapsed into silence again for a few minutes struggling to find common ground when they'd only just met.

"So your scar. Is that where …" Ron trailed off unsure how to finish his question.

Harry sighed. "Yes, that's where Volde -" Ron hissed in fright here, "Voldemort hit me with the killing curse. And before you ask, no I don't remember it – except for a flash of bright green light – and I don't remember him either."

"You said his name! How can you of all people? No one ever uses his name… well Dumbledore does supposedly, but he's Dumbledore do there's no surprise there."

"Well, I never knew I shouldn't. I grow up with my muggle relatives although that went south, and Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall pulled me out of there a few months ago. I've still got lots to learn. But that's not one of them, he may have killed people but he's gone now so…" Harry trailed off, but the redhead seemed to get his point his eyes losing some of the fire that had engulfed them when Harry banded about the name.

"You've been at Hogwarts all this time? What's it like?" Ron asked a few minutes later.

"It's amazing, there's moving staircases, lots of portraits and the teacher's I've met are really nice…" Harry launched into an explanation of the school highlighting all his favourite things about the castle and the grounds and promising to help show Ron around the castle as soon as possible.

The door slid open again, this time it was a familiar face who entered the compartment.

"Hey Harry, finally found you I've been looking for ages." Helena paused, finally noticing Ron's presence. "Oh hi."

Helena came in, allowing Harry to see the other three girls hovering in the doorway, and held her hand out for Ron to shake. "I'm Helena Chance, you are?"

"Ron Weasley."

"Nice to meet you,"

"Eh hem." One of the other girls nudged Helena prompting her to introduce them. "Oh! Right sorry guys. Harry, Ron. This is Juliette Lance -" she gestured at a girl with a healthy olive complexion, cropped amber hair and blue eyes. "Kellah Keegan," she pointed to the girl in the middle, a black girl with long ebony hair in an intricate pile of plaits and startlingly silver eyes. "and Fay Dunbar, my new friends." The final girl had pale skin, green eyes and blonde hair done up in an afro.

"Hi," Harry and Ron intoned waving to the girls.

"So, um. I was just stopping by to say hello and to ask you what you think about organising a pick up game or two over the school year." Helena said to Harry, her eyes darting between Ron and Harry in the hope that both boys would agree.

"Quidditch?" Ron asked interestedly.

"Nah, football – although I wouldn't be opposed to some pick up quidditch after the official lessons are over." Harry corrected excitement fresh in his voice at the idea of learning to fly. The teachers had refused to allow anyone to teach him as he would be having lessons come the school year.

"What's football?" Ron asked his ears turning pink when he realised he had no idea what they were discussing.

"It's a muggle sport, I played on a school team against Harry a couple of times. I'd be more than willing to teach you," Helena answered looking flabbergast at the idea of not knowing what football was.

"Yeah, okay, could be fun,"

Harry grinned, it seemed his friends may be able to get along.

"We'll just have to see how many people want to play, Helena, but I brought a ball with me and I'm sure the professor's could create spares and some goalposts."

Helena and her friends stayed for a short while but eventually they went back to their compartment to join the rest of their new friends, leaving the two boys alone once more. Harry and Ron spent the next hour or so discussing quidditch and football and just generally safe topics until they felt like they knew a bit more about each other. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said:

"Anything off the trolley, dearies?"

Harry, who had a lunch made by Skye but didn't have any of the famous wizarding treats that Professor Dumbledore and even Madam Pomfrey had recommended, jumped to his feet and looked at Ron who shook his head and pulled a pack of sandwiches from his pocket, and went out into the corridor.

"Sure," Harry passed over some change and brought back a selection of all the wizarding sweets the woman had and a couple of bottles of cold pumpkin juice to share with Ron and save for late nights in the dorm where some of the other students had warned him they only kept water on hand in the dorm whereas the common rooms had more of a selection. Ron stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto the empty table.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," Harry confessed and opened his trunk to remove the large selection of sandwiches and fruit Skye had packed for him.

"She always forgets I don't like corned beef." Ron sighed, holding up one of his own sandwiches.

"Here, add them to the selection and take what you want," Harry offered, downing his nutrient potion and grabbing a one of Ron's sandwiches from the pile while the other boy helped himself to a tuna one. "Hey, these are great mate. Your mum must be an amazing cook."

* * *

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

A young boy around their age with a pudgy face and dirty blonde hair pocked his head into their compartment an anxious look on his face.

"Umm, hi…" the boy sounded close to tears, "have wither of you seen my Trevor… I mean my toad, Trevor. He's my toad and he keeps running off."

Harry would have laughed at the boys stumble but figured it would probably set the poor kid off.

"Sorry mate. No toads here." Answered Ron.

"Oh Merlin he's gone." The boy sobbed.

"I'm sure he'll turn up, why don't you take a seat for a while, if worse comes to worst one of the house elves will find him when they search the train this evening." Harry grabbed a chocolate frog from the pile of sweets. "You may have lost your toad but here, have a frog,"

The three of them shared a glance and burst out laughing, breaking the tension from the boy's stance.

"Thanks, I'm Neville Longbottom,"

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself and waited for the customary flick of the eyes to see his scar, and he wasn't disappointed, although surprisingly Neville didn't react much beyond that unlike almost everyone else he had met.

"So did you know that you're my god brother?" Harry broached tentatively a few minutes later.

"God brother!" Neville chocked out spewing the iced pumpkin juice he was drinking across the compartment.

"That's what Professor McGonagall told me. My mother was your godmother and yours is mine. That is assuming your Alice Longbottom's kid." Harry explained.

McGonagall had told him all about the Longbottom's and how Neville was the other kid the prophecy could have once referred too, not that he was ready to discuss that yet.

Neville got a very sad look on his face similar, Harry supposed, to grief. Not that it was surprising given his parents fate.

"Yes, my Mum is Alice, I'm sorry I never knew. My parents haven't been… well… since I was a baby and my Gran – who raised me – never told me. I guess she didn't want to tell me as your parents weren't around either… anyway I never expected that I should have known the Harry Potter on such a personal level."

"Sorry, If I brought up bad memories or anything. Anyway I hope we can be friends." Harry held out his hand fully aware of what sort of memories he had dredged up.

"I'd like that Harry."

Ron watched the interaction awkwardly and eventually he spoke, breaking the tension that had descended over the boys.

"You know, the twins gave me a spell the other day to turn Scabbers yellow, do you want to see?"

When Harry and Neville affirmed that they wanted to see the spell, Ron rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway…" He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again.

A girl with bushy brown hair stood there, she was already dressed in her Hogwarts robes and appeared so preoccupied she barely glanced in the compartment before speaking.

"Hello, sorry, have any of you seen a toad? Neville's lost his…" she trailed off the bossy tone leaving her voice when she realised Neville himself was in the compartment. "Oh, hi Neville, did you find Trevor then? If not, you should really get back to looking, after all you're not going to find him by sitting back and… eating sweets."

"Nah, it's okay though, Harry says that the school's elves do a sweep of the train and will find him later." Neville told the girl gesturing at Harry as he did so, he was looking much better now he was no longer pale nor was he on the verge of crying instead he was positively happy.

"Do you want to join us?" Harry offered and was glad to see the girl accept his offer and take a seat beside Neville, it would seem his pool of friends was growing and growing fast.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." The girl exclaimed noticing Ron's wand in his hand.

"Er - all right." Ron muttered and then he cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl.

"Probably not, my twin brother's gave it to me and they're pranksters, it's probably just a dud."

"Well, that's not very nice, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you." She said all this seemingly without taking a breath.

Harry looked at Ron and Neville, and realised they were both rather overwhelmed by the idea of having memorised the entirety of their course book list. Harry himself hadn't memorised them but he had read them thoroughly.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," Harry said.

"Are you really?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes doing the tell tale search for his scar. "I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Yeah, I know. But trust me the information in them isn't very accurate, for one thing as out of the four people who were there that night only I survived and have never given an interview … well… all we have to rely on are the magical forensics. Trust me most of those books are complete and utter rubbish."

"I guess that makes sense. I had wondered after I read that adventure series based on you,"

As Hermione said this Harry and Neville chuckled but Ron just looked on confused.

"Those books are… ridiculous… the author had little interest in making it clear that he was writing fiction, he just wanted the money and popularity from Harry's fame." Neville explained to Ron and Hermione helping to clear up their confusion.

"Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad..." Hermione rambled.

"Gryffindor for me. Weasley's have been in Gryffindor for generations, it's pretty much tradition now, all my brothers have been sorted into Gryffindor." Ron jumped in. "Although it came close with Percy, he was almost a Ravenclaw." He mused.

"My Gran wants me to be Gryffindor as well, says I need to be if I want to honour my parents –" Harry held up a hand to stop Hermione from pressing the subject anticipating her question about his parents. "I reckon I'll be in Hufflepuff though, I'm hardly brave enough for Gryffindor and everyone says I'm practically a squib."

"Squib?" Harry asked confused by the strange term.

"A squib is a non-magical individual born to magical parents, on rare occasions they have what is known as background magic where they have the capacity to produce low level magic in times of high intensity emotions – similar to accidental magic – but normally they have no access to magic of their own and are basically muggles." Hermione explained sounding rather like she was reading off a page.

"Well then, that's not a very nice thing to say, is it?" Harry directed to everyone.

"It's kind of fair though, I mean I never showed any signs of magic until I was eight." Neville added morosely.

"Well, you got yer letter, so you have magic. That's all that matters mate." Ron interjected bringing a smile back to Neville's face. "Anyway, what about you Harry, what house do you want?"

"Honestly, I probably want Gryffindor, I wouldn't mind Ravenclaw, but as all of you want Gryffindor it's definitely the choice that I feel the most confident about… but I don't want to be in Gryffindor just because it's what everyone expects of me. Augh!" he pounded his hand on the seat next to him in frustration, his fame really wasn't worth it all it did was stop him from feeling comfortable with his decisions and remind him of his parents death.

"Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet – but I don't suppose you get that with the muggles – someone tried to rob a high security vault." Ron told them.

"Actually I do have a subscription to the Prophet," Hermione corrected.

"Oh yeah, I heard about that, apparently the vault was empty though, so no real harm done." Neville commented showing excitement at being able to contribute.

"It was vault 713, I believe, and it happened on your birthday Harry," Hermione mentioned.

Harry stared. Vault 713, the vault Hagrid had emptied, the vault he had only just been in time to empty…

"Merlin's beard! That's the vault Hagrid emptied; he must have got there just in time! What happened to them?"

"Nothing, which is the problem. They escaped the bank. My Dad says that only an extremely powerful wizard would have been able to get round Gringotts. I suppose it's a good thing Hagrid – did you say? – emptied the vault when he did. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

"B-b-but it can't have been h-h-him right? I m-mean no one's seen him for ten years." Neville stuttered out nervously.

It took the three of them quite a while to help Neville put his worries behind him, but soon they were all embroiled in a heated discussion about the benefits of quidditch and flying in general.

* * *

When the compartment door opened again it was already dark outside, three boys entered, the cruel blonde boy from Madam Malkins with two thickset and mean looking boys who appeared to be filling the role of bodyguards.

"Is it true?" he said sizing Harry up once again but with far more scrutiny than back in the robe shop. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

Harry suddenly realised why the boy had sounded worried when he thought he recognised him in Diagon Alley, he had obviously been instructed to make friends with the Boy Who Lived in order to gain his favour and use of his fame. He grimaced.

"Maybe I am maybe I'm not, what's it to you? You were nothing but rude towards me when we met last and you still haven't introduced yourself," Harry responded frostily.

Ron, Hermione and Neville just sat there eyes practically glued on the scene in front of them fully aware of the magical charge building around Harry, even if they couldn't recognise it for what it was they just knew, instinctively that it was power… and danger.

"Ah, yes, well this is Vincent Crabbe and Greg Goyle," the pale boy said carelessly. Harry noted that he hadn't actually bothered to distinguish which of the fine gentlemen were which.

"And my name, as I'm sure you'll know, is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He finished his tone laced with ponce and circumstance as he unknowingly parroted a famous muggle character.

Neville's face paled slightly which caused Hermione to look at him in confusion at the same point Ron gave a slight cough, which had been used to disguise a snigger. Draco Malfoy turned a sharp look at Ron and then looked him up and down a sneer transforming his face. Gone was the arrogant boy who Harry now recognised as coming from an old – and dark – pureblood family and in his place was a kid who was downright set against any sort of kindness or niceties with Ron.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to introduce yourself, my father told me all Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford. And Longbottom the squib's here as well! Hogwarts must really have lowered there standards if they let you in, and what's this a mudblood, what poor company you keep Potter." The blond drawled moving his glance onto each of Harry's friends in turn.

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it, instead Malfoy found Harry's wand levelled at him.

"Never. Insult. My. Friends. Again."

Harry barked out forcing a small pulse of his magic down his wand, causing the tip to glow with a faint purple light.

Harry really didn't like this kid, even if one were to ignore how he had acted when they met he had the audacity to insult Harry's friends before expecting him to simply fall in line and become friends. That didn't mean he was actually going to attack him though, Harry was bluffing the most he could do at this point would be to wandlessly turn him to another colour or another trick similar to what he'd practiced in June. When he didn't lower his wand, Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles and stepped forwards threateningly only to find themselves face to wand point from the others who had finally snapped out of their trance and seemed to be following Harry's lead.

"Crabbe, Goyle. We're leaving." Malfoy instructed, then turned back to face Harry, "you'll regret not taking me up on my offer one of these days, Potter. If you don't you'll go the same way as your parents, mark my words," he turned on the spot and motioned for his friends to follow as he moved back in the direction of his own compartment.

Harry let out the breath he had been holding and slumped back into his seat, returning his wand to his pocket as he did so. His friends lowered themselves back into their seats as well, a strange and disconcerting array of looks on their faces. Ron was displaying a mix of anger and excitement while Hermione was frowning deeply and appeared to be a little in shock and Neville was looked at him with what he could only describe as hero worship mixed with terror at what he had just done.

"What did we just do? Fighting, we could have been expelled!" Hermione exclaimed at the same time as Ron uttered:

"Cool,"

Neville seemed to be too shocked with what he'd done to say much and he simply slumped back in his seat all the fight having left him once more.

"Relax, we're on the train for one so they couldn't give serious punishment even if it was justified – and trust me it isn't – and it's not like we actually did anything, most we could have done would be to have poked them with our wands."

Hermione did calm down somewhat although she still didn't seem happy and only reengaged with the conversation when Ron spoke what in his mind was the most important question from the entire experience.

"You've met Malfoy before?"

Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."

"That's right, the Malfoy family have aligned with the last five movements from the darker sects of society. Although… this one is only eleven…"

"Neville's right, we can't judge Draco based on his parents, only on his own merit. He may still change he's only eleven and has spent his whole life under his parents influence, his views may broaden now that he's left their care." Hermione urged going against her anger at the boy in order to argue for what she thought even if her own experiences with bullies didn't line up with.

When it was time to put their robes on, Neville had to leave for a moment to get his since he had left his trunk in another compartment and Hermione left so that Harry and Ron could change in private, and so Harry and Ron slipped their school robes on over their clothes, they didn't need to wear the shirt and trousers portion of their uniform tonight, only the robes as it was just for the sorting and welcome feast. After Neville and Hermione returned they had just finished packing away the sweets having split them between themselves when the train pulled into the station.

* * *

"Firs' years!" a loud voice boomed out across the platform. "Firs' years over here. All right Harry?"

Harry smiled as he pointed out Hagrid's imposing figure to his friends and leading them towards him, new robes flapping around him as he went.

"Hi ya Hagrid." Harry said joining the other first years over by the half giant.

"Nice journey?" Hagrid asked, "and who are you lot, friends of Harry's?"

"I did, the food Skye made went down great," said Harry. "These are my new friends. This is Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom."

"Hi I've heard a lot about you from my brothers," Ron commented not at all intimidated by the keeper of keys immense size.

"Hello," Hermione politely greeted, though she was obviously studying the man's immense size and forming theories on what exactly made him so large.

"H-h-h-hello Sir," Neville stuttered bravely taking Hagrid's proffered hand.

"Good to meet you, any friend of Harry's is a friend of mine." said Hagrid. "Follow me everyone, we're taking the boats across the lake." He said turning to the rest of the first years.

The group of first year students followed Hagrid down a long path towards a lake where a few dozen boats were waiting for them on the shoreline.

"No more than five to a boat," Hagrid called out as he got into his own boat.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville all got into the same boat with Helena joining them a few minutes later. Hagrid looked over his shoulder, making sure that everyone was in a boat before he tapped his own boat with a large, pink umbrella, causing all of the boats to gently glide out into the water. Harry introduced Helena to Neville and Hermione and briefly explained how they knew each other as their boat glided past the Giant Squid who raised a couple of tentacles above the glistening surface of the lake waving them towards the castle.

The first years all gasped when they came around the bend of the lake, taking in their first site of the majestic castle that was Hogwarts. Even Harry was awed by the site, seeing it from this angle across the lake at night with the beautiful stone of his home all lit up at night.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, Longbottom! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

As soon as they reached the large front doors of the castle, Hagrid banged on it with his large first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so I already have an idea on where Harry and the others are going to be sorted (for Harry I have plans for every house other than Slytherin) however, I would like your input, if anyone wants to make a suggestion I will listen to it as I am yet to make a final decision myself. In the long run the only character whose house is decided is Hermione and in some ways Helena who will be joining Harry in whatever house he makes his own.
> 
> So please, leave suggestions in the review section if you wish and I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible.


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